A Treacherous Love
by LonelyGirlWritings
Summary: Christine decides to return to the man she once gave her mind blindly to, the man who practically raised her. Will he accept her sudden change of mind or was he already too broken from her choice of Raoul to be her love? Both must make choices in which they are too stubborn to make, both must face the music they once made together. E/C. M for mild sensuality/language. ON HOLD.
1. Prologue

**A/N: Hi there. This a new story. It is based off of the 25th Anniversary cast. (Ramin Karimloo, Sierra Boggess, and Hadley Fraser.) I do not own any of the characters or story plot. Everything goes to ALW. Some of the story is based of Leroux and his writings, Kay as well. I like to think my imagination at two in the morning had something to do with it as well. **

**I hope you enjoy it. I'll be updating as much as I can. I'll also be changing the facts a bit to fit the story, but it will mostly be the same. If I switch points of view, I shall let you know. If there are any violence, sensuality, or language warnings I will let you know. But don't get excited. Ok. Bye. **

**#teamramin**

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Prologue

_"Will you end your days with me or do you send him to his grave?" _

The fog had washed away by now and his eyes were _clearly_ desperate for a reply from my shaking lips. His heart ravenous for any passion, dependence, and guidance. He yearned so deeply for a love that I could not give him.

My breathing had increasingly picked up by now as I averted my eyesight towards the tall man wrapped up in the Punjab lasso. The feeling of my hot tears cascading down my cheeks and onto my collarbone snapped me out of trance as I took a deep breath inwards, exhaling slowly.

"Erik... Please, don't make me choose-" My pleading was soon interrupted by the gravelly voice behind me.

"You must. Christine, you try my patience. Make your choice."

Wiping my tears with the base of my hands, I picked my skirt up with hesitance. Mouthing a small "I... Love you..." to the man held in a choke hold, I turned to the other individual in the dark suit, his jacket now discarded onto the floor of the lair. His voice still rung in the back of my head

as frogmarched over the man, as if there was a gun to my back and my hands were glued to my sides. With one final exhale, I tapped him on his shoulder, only expecting the worst.

"Christine-" Stopping another one of his endless speeches, my lips soon found his. To my surprise, they were soft and warm. His body froze against mine as I pressed mine forward. I could feel his hands circulating around my body, not sure if he was _allowed_ to touch me, not sure if he knew _how _to touch me. After what seemed like hours, I finally pulled away to see tears streaming down his disfigured face. His shoulders rose and fell unevenly in time with his soft whimpers.

"Oh, Christine... My Christine..." He cooed with the smoothest of voices. "You must go... I am unworthy of you... I am unworthy of your lips against my misshapen lips... Erik does not have anything to give you... Go, Christine... My Christine " Running the back of his hand against my cheek, he gently pushed me to the side, leaving me speechless. In an small way, my heart shattered. My world revolved around Erik as I grew from a small girl to what I am now. He protected me from everything that was harmful. Before I could dwell on it any longer, Raoul's arms were around me in a panicked embrace.

"Christine! Christine, can you hear me? Christine, we must go!" Raoul's voice was echoing in my ears as I looked towards the figure trudging into the shadows once more, never to be seen again.

"Erik..." I mumbled as Raoul dragged me to the boat I once arrived in with my Angel. Raoul had some trouble maneuvering it, but all I could think about was Erik, my Erik. Slowly, the percussion of the mob filled my ears. Their angry chants and harsh words boomed through the tunnels of the underground world Erik worked so hard to build. "Raoul! Stop the boat!" The words escaped my lips much more quickly than I expected. I barely had the time to think about it.

"Christine? Are you _mad_? No! We must go! The mob will be down here soon! To get The Phantom! Come, Christine!" Soon, my feet were submerged into the icy water surrounding the boat. The lake was dirty and freezing. Surely, hypothermia was in my future, but I could not let the mob get to my Erik. The coldness reached my spine as it took my breath out of my lungs. "Christine! Get out of the lake! What are you doing? Christine, darling! You're scaring me... Christine..." The wedding dress was almost fully encompassed with the dirty lake water as it began to reach me down to the bone.

"No! I m-must go get E-Erik before the mob does! Go home without me, Raoul. I love you, Raoul-"

"Christine! Stop that! Get back-"

"Tell M-Meg that I love h-her, alright?" While the wedding dress was beginning to weigh me down, I did not dare stop moving. Treading farther into the tunnels, Raoul's screams became quieter and quieter. I knew that I would not last much longer with this heavy dress on, but I had to try. With Raoul fully out of my eyesight, I began swimming and soon, I was neck deep. "Erik... I'm coming... I promise... H-how I left you in the f-first place, I-I don't k-know..." The ice was hitting me to the bone, to the core of my heart. I could barely move my body beneath the water and the fabric that weighed so heavily around me. I don't know if it was the water, but my eyesight was soon to give out as well. The current of the lake began to stir, which was strange. That never has happened before. Being pushed by against the current, I was soon underneath the water, searching desperately for air. "Oh!" I gasped for air at the first moment my head was above water. The current was coming in stronger, but before I could hold my breath I realized that it was wrong of me to _choose_ to leave Erik all along. "I... Must... Get... To my... _Angel_..."


	2. Chapter 1

**One **

Timidly, my eyes began to open after what seemed like years. My eyelids feel heavy and my arms feel numb. I was not at the Opera House anymore. The room was painted a dark red, almost maroon. It was accented with black with simple furniture. Was I still in Paris? Unsure of my surroundings, I sat up and scanned the unfamiliar territory. The wedding dress I once fashioned hung on bathroom door to the left of me. Was I _naked_? No. Peering down at my body, it was shown that I wore a blue silk nightgown. My hair was braided loosely and I felt clean as a whistle. There was no clock, no measure of time. No pictures or references that could possibly reassure me that I was even alive. Approaching the bedroom door, I braced myself for the worst possible outcome: _limbo_.

"AH!" I screamed out in unison with the equally as scared maid. My breathing was heavy as she dropped the tray of tea onto the ground, shattering the china she carried.

"Oh my, Mr. Destler will _not_ be pleased..." Bending down, she began to pick up the shards of broken china.

"Let me help you..." I rushed over to help her, bending down to eye level. Her eyes were a deep brown with golden specs interwoven in between. Her hair flowed down her shoulders in a blonde braided river, tied with a black ribbon, identical with mine.

"Oh, no need Miss Daaé. Surely, Mr. Destler would not appreciate you on your hands and knees. I will clean it up, as it was my fault. Please, rest. You've had a long recovery." Her voice was soft, comforting at most. Standing to my feet, I made my way over to the white satin couch.

"A long recovery? How long... Was I asleep for, Miss..."

"DeRoleaux, but Mr. Destler just calls me Siré. As for your recovery... I would say you have been asleep for at least three almost four days. Mr. Destler rescued you from the flood, then brought you here to his home. You were suffering from hypothermia. He is a great healer. I've been changing your clothes daily and making sure you remain... Fresh. He has not seen you indecent, I assure you, Miss Daaé." Continuing to pick up the shards, she nodded along, blushing lightly at her confession.

"Flood? What fl-" My posture stiffened as the front door opened. Silence fell over the room as Siré paused in her movements. The room became colder and soon, the chill that previously inhabited my body down to my bones was there once more.

"Christine. How wonderful it is to see up and about." His velvety voice filled my ears with an overwhelming joy as I turned to face the masked man. He stood tall, fashioning a black mask I had never seen before. His suit was black to the toe, but his eyes were brighter than ever.

"Erik! Oh, Erik!" My arms soon found his neck, pulling him into an embrace. His body reacted no differently than I expected. With his arms glued to his sides, I released mine with a smile on my face. "Thank you, Erik. For saving me from that awful lake... Truly."

"I did not save you from that lake. It was the current that brought you to me... In any case, Christine... What did I tell you about that water? It is freezing cold. You almost died! Had I not seen your limp body floating through the tunnels as I was escaping from the flood I started, you would have been dead! You had already left me once! I just... Couldn't have bore to lose you once again..." His voice lowered into a whisper as he scolded me for jumping into the water. Lifting my hand, I cupped his unmasked cheek.

"No more speaking of death. Erik, tell me about the flood."

"Siré," Turning towards the maid, she nodded with complete understanding and retreated into the kitchen. "Now, please come sit with me in the living room and I shall explain to you everything that occurred after you ran off with that... Boy..." We moved into the living room which was lavish and painted with a magnificent violet. The furniture was black, of course. Making his way to the cabinets, he turned his head slightly, the profile of his mask only made visible. "A drink, Miss Daaé? To celebrate your awakening?"

"I'm sure my teacher would be most disappointed if I ruined my vocal chords with the taint of alcohol coating and infecting them. Erik, please sit and stop stalling." The masked man moved swiftly across from me, making sure he kept his respectable distance. Once he was settled, he exhaled quietly. "The flood, then... Start from the beginning."

"Once you left in the boat with _The Vicomte_, I had an epiphany. I remembered one of the many traps I built long ago... A flood gate. I had no use of living underneath the Opera House any longer. Indeed, I did start the flood to get rid of the mob, but I would have not pulled the flood gate lever if I had known you were in the lake! I was making my escape when I saw this white... Blob, make its way towards me. A familiar dress then, made its appearance and I ran as fast as I could to you. I got you out of you the water and we escaped just before the bottom of the Opera House flooded. I then took you here, to my home, which I shall not disclose its location. I nursed you back to health. It was difficult, but not impossible. I learned many things back in Iran, my dear. Mr. Khan helped often as well. Like I said before, I couldn't bare to lose you again. I was doing everything I could to save you, even if that did mean... When you woke... You would go back to find _The Vicomte_."

"Raoul... Oh Raoul... How I miss The Vicomte... Truly..." I whispered, not realizing that Erik had escaped the room. Leaving my behind, the few strained tears that managed to escape my eyes fell to the hardwood floor as I stood to my feet. "Erik? Where did you go? Erik? I know you are still in here." Secretly, the sound of clothes shifting against one another captured my attention. Moving to the opposite corner of the room, the darkest corner of the room, the sight that dawned upon me pierced my heart and immediately my tears fell again. "Oh, Erik..." Cowering in the corner like a small child, was the masked man. His knees were pulled up to his chest as black wig was shifted to the side. "Erik? What's wrong?"

"Erik does not deserve you... Christine should return to The Vicomte at once!" He yelled, echoing throughout the empty room. Startled at his proclamation, his expression grew grave. "Erik started the flood! Erik almost drowned you!"

"But Erik didn't know I was in the lake! How silly of me was it that I jumped in the lake in the first place? Oh, please come out of the corner. I will return to The Vicomte when the time is right. I still feel quite ill, Erik. Will your friend Khan be back to check on me anytime soon?" My head felt light and my chest felt hollow. I don't know if it was his sudden outbursts or the fact that he felt so helpless that initiated my heartache. Stumbling backwards, I sat back into the black couch and rested upon it until he came out of the shadows, fleeing to my side.

"Christine, I will send a letter to Nadir at once. He shall be here in the morning. Oh Christine... My Christine... Oh no, Christine, don't close your eyes! You must stay awake! Stay awake for Erik!" My eyelids felt heavy once again, as if I was back in that lake. My stomach stirred and I knew that something bad was about to occur, then everything went dark.


	3. Chapter 2

**Two**

Ringing in my ears, that's all I could hear. Apart from my body aching, I could not yet tell if I was still in Erik's home. The room was dark, but the fire was roaring. It look as though it was the same room, but it was far too dark to tell at this point. With the fire as the only illumination, I sat up only to find a screeching pain in my side.

"No, you mustn't sit up, dear. Keep down, flat." A voice that I had never heard, filled my ears as it spoke delicately to me. Surely, I can't be Erik by my side. Their calloused hands pushed me down back onto the bed as a warm wet cloth was placed onto my forehead. "There, Miss Daaé. Are you feeling any better? You've been asleep for quite sometime, now."

"Have I? How long has it been, Erik?" I groaned at the pain in my side. The figure beside me perked up, shaking their head.

"I assure you, Miss, I am not Erik Destler. Erik is not at home. He has been out on business for about a week now. He gives you his best regards and wishes to tell you that upon his return, he is bringing you a gift of great importance. Here, drink this." The liquid was putrid, thick and astringent as it slid down my throat.

"That is absolutely rancid! _Why would you have anybody drink that_? _Especially_ a lady!" I yelled at the mysterious man, slamming the glass down onto the bed side beside me. An airy laugh escaped his lips as he leaned back into the chair.

"_That_ is what has been keeping you alive, Miss Daaé. You have been asleep for almost five days now. You occasionally wake up to regurgitate the bile in your stomach, but then fall straight back into a deep slumber. That is what I am here for, Miss. My name is Nadir Khan. I am here to aid you while Mr. Destler is away. Mr. Destler may have often called me Daroga. You may name me whichever you please." I looked down at the man's ring, identical to Erik's ring that he forced upon my hand. Soon, the familiar ache of Erik's forceful hand flew to my finger again.

"W-What happened to me then, Nadir? Oh, and please stop with all these formalities. My name is Christine."

"Very well, Christine. You do not remember that you... Spilled bile five days ago in front of Mr. Destler and then blacked out onto the couch?" I feverishly shook my head, recalling nothing of the sort. "You were severely dehydrated. Your organs were not receiving their proper fluids. You simply regurgitated nothing. You gained a hot fever and slept for days. Mr. Destler saw fit that he went back to Opera House to retrieve some of your belongings. I received a letter telling me that he needed to take care of more business. He might as well. In any case, rest my dear Christine. I am proud to see that your color is returning to your face. Mr. Destler will be pleased. I will return to you by nightfall. If you shall have any needs, Siré is in the next room. Goodbye, Christine." Placing a chaste kiss onto my hot knuckles, Nadir rose to feet and left the room with haste. Moments later, there was a knock at my door.

"Yes?"

"It's just Siré. May I come in, Miss Daaé?"

"Yes, you may." Soon, the blonde haired girl was in my room, collecting the towels off of the ground.

"Feeling any better, Miss Da-"

"For the love of God! Please, just call me Christine! Must I have it nailed onto the front door?" The blonde girl jumped back in a startled manner, freezing in her tracks.

"I-I'm sorry... I didn't..."

"Oh, Siré," I sighed with an airy complexion. "It must be the fever. I am so sorry. Can you do me a favor? It would help me greatly." She approached my bedside immediately, pouring more water into my glass.

"Of course, Christine. What is it? Anything for you, Christine." Her voice was truly innocent. The curiosity of the fact if she has seen Erik's face suddenly fled to my thoughts. His face that I find so intoxicating and so beautiful, that consumes in him a deep hatred for himself... Oh Erik... My Erik. How can you not see how wonderful you are? Truly, he must know how much I- "Christine? Are you alright?"

"Oh... Yes, I'm sorry. My thoughts distracted me. Siré, could you help me change into something lighter. It is awfully hot in here with the fire going."

"Yes ma'am. Let me get a shorter gown for you." With that, the blonde girl turned on her heel and made her way over to the dresser.

Two Days Later

The home was quiet, all except for Siré and myself inhabited the home.

"Siré, can you hand me some stationery? I wish to write a letter to The Vicomte. I'm sure he is worrying about me to a nebulous degree." Siré glanced at me with uneasy expression. She walked towards me with hesitance, placing her duster down onto the end table.

"With all respect, Christine, Mr. Destler advised me to tell you that writing letters to The Vicomte or to The Giry's was not to be permitted until he returned. I'm sorry." That is what I was most afraid of.

"Alright... I'm going to go into my room, then. Thank you." Before I could close the bedroom door behind me with regret, her perky voice perched up behind me.

"There's a letter for you, Christine! It is from Erik- Mr. Destler!" She came running to me, her excitement, overwhelming. I smiled widely at his handwriting, opening the letter.

" _To my Christine_." The outer envelope read.

" _Dear Christine - My Christine, _

_I am sorry to hear that you have awoken and I am not there to be for you. I will be back by Tuesday. I swear by it. The Vicomte de Chagny misses you very much, but rest assured he knows you are safe. I made certain of it. I cannot wait to see you again, my Christine. I am truly thankful that you are feeling better and glad that Daroga is there to take care of you. He is a good friend and doctor, to say the least. Rest well and take care of Siré for me. Until Tuesday, dear. _

_I Remain Yours, _

_Erik Destler_ "

That Tuesday

I awoke to a light breeze sifting through the French doors of my room. Looking beside me, a simple red rose tied with a black ribbon and a letter addressed with my name, laid on the pillow.

"_Christine_" The outside read.

"_Until you wake, I will be in the music room. Please knock four times in indication that you are who you are when arriving at the music room. Sir__é__should have breakfast ready for you. After you eat, you may clean up and join me for the day. I look forward to seeing you once more. _

_Yours, _

_Erik_ "

That Tuesday

I arose to find a fresh pair of clothing laid out on the chair in the corner. Making my way out into the main space of the home, I found Siré cooking a delicious meal.

"Good morning, Siré." I spoke softly, not wanting to startle her.

"How radiant you look in the mornings, Christine! I wish I looked as you do. I am making crêpes. Is that alright with you?" Nodding in approval, she paused in her movements. "Excuse me if this is out of place... But... Would you mind if I ate breakfast with you? I know I am nothing, but the hired help... It is just that I would much love your company."

"Oh, Siré. I am flattered, of course you may dine with me. Do you think you could draw me a bath after we dine? I am anxious to meet with Erik. Is he here?" She smiled widely, serving two plates of food. Carrying them over to the table, she brought over the kettle of tea.

"Yes, Christine. He hasn't left the music room since he's arrived. He spends a lot of time in there. I think he's quite the musical genius, really. Last Christmas, he wrote me my own lullaby! It was sublime! Truly, Christine!" Taking her seat beside me, we began to eat together.

"You have been working for Erik that long? Has he not always resided underneath The Opera House?" She shook her hands in light protest, before swallowing her food.

"Oh, no! That was his main residence. He only came here about three times a week."

"And you said he wrote you your own lullaby?" With a slight blush, she agreed with an innocence I wish I still had.

"Yes, after my father passed away, I asked for a few days off of work. I told him that I was willing to work on Christmas, though. He told me that was absolutely ridiculous. He gave me a ticket to the opera and my own lullaby. He is most kind!"

After we finished eating and I concluded my bathing, I dawned a lavender dress with lace appliqués. Erik truly had the best taste in fashion, women's or men's.

With a deep breath, I made my way down the music room. A sweet andante filled my ears as I imagined his fingers gliding over the slick keys in circling motion, smoothly to fit the rhythm of the song. Knocking four times, his deep voice bellowed from inside the room. Opening the door, the body was lurched over the grand piano, his black coat tails hanging over the bench loosely. The lighting was dim. How he read any sheet music in here, was a wonderment in itself! His eyes must be accustomed to dimly lit rooms

"Erik, you've returned! How was... Wherever you went?" His head raised languidly to face me. Dawning a black mask, he nodded politely upon looking upon me.

"It was business. Are you feeling better? You were quite ill." Standing to his feet, he pushed the bench in and lifted my hand to meet his soft lips.

"I am, thank you. Nadir was quite kind-"

"Yes, he is. Very wise in his field. When first met, he helped me in many ways when it came to my health. I am glad he was able to help you, Christine. He is a great friend of mine. I do not have many friends. I suppose you already know that... Is your stomach feeling better? Nadir said you were quite dehydrated. Simply bile, though. I was afraid it was something worse. I was afraid that it was your appendix..." He continued ramble on until I placed my hand on his arm. His eyes immediately shot down to the contact.

"Erik, I am _fine._ Thank you for Nadir. He was of much help. I am sorry you had to see me regurgitate bile. I slept a lot, which is good but, Erik... In your letter... You mentioned The Vicomte, you mentioned Raoul. Is he alright?" Erik froze in his tracks, turning around. His back faced me. Unable to read his facial expressions annoyed me the most.

"Yes. I did mention him. He is just fine. He went back to the lair, but he found that everything was washed away by the flood. Discomforted immensely by your drowning, I left a letter for him. I disclosed that you were alright and that you had a distant friend who took the noble step in taking care of you." Pausing, he exhaled with a shaky breath. I had never realized how unnerved he was until now. "I... also told him that you will return to him, once you are back in full health."

"Erik, why did you say that? I swam back for you! I _want_ to stay with you..." I whimpered, hoping that in some way he did not hear me.

"I said it, because you truly do not want to stay here. You love _him_. You do _not_ love me. Nobody loves me. I am simply here to help you get back into full health." Turning around, his fists were clenched together as he towered over me.

"E-Erik... I swam back... Because I am loyal to you. My debt is in you! Erik, it is _because_ of you that I am who I am-"

"You swam back out of _pity_, then?! I shall return you to The Vicomte at once! It's far too late for your useless pity, Miss Daaé." He began to storm out of the dimly lit room, before I fell to my knees. My eyes burned as the tears fell down my collar bone.

"Erik, please! Listen to me!" Bending down to my level, his face was now inches from mine. His eyes I could see now, were not dark. His nose was centimeters from mine, his hot breath trickled down the front of my throat, we were so close. His eyebrows furrowed, creating a noticeable crease on the visible side of his face. His lips were inches from mine, tempting me to kiss them, but giving me no reason as to why I had the heated desire to kiss them.

"_I'm listening_." He spoke sharply, yet his voice was the denizen of every fallen angel. His breathing deepened as I scooted closer to his body.

"Pity or not, I am here with you now. I will return to The Vicomte when I see fit. But for now, you are all I want in my life. Does Erik understand? Does Erik _want_ Christine here with him?" I breathed out, earning a sluggish blink from the man opposite from me.

"Erik does not want Christine's useless pity. You are free to go back to The Vicomte de Chagny." The man stood, adjusting his waistcoat and jacket. Opening the door, he paused turning his head slightly to give me one last glance before escaping into the hallway. "Loyalty and love are two different things, Miss Daaé. It is up to you to decide which is more beneficial to your life. Far too long have we gone back and forth. You know where your loyalty lies. I had a slight glimmer of hope that maybe, it lay with me. Somehow, I was mistaken. That is why I never build up false hope." With a truncated breath, he sat back on his heels. "Make your choice, now. I shall not ask you again." With that, he closed the door and left me on the floor of his musical cave.


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: Wow, over two hundred views in the first day! I am truly honored. I forgot to mention that this story I am writing Erik to be more sweet, not as dark as some other stories. He still will be somewhat dark, but I believe Erik to have a sweet side to him. Please review as you please. **

**- A **

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**Three**

| Erik |

I needed to escape the music room as fast as I could. To be in that close of proximity with Christine, my Christine, was too much for my mind - my body - to handle. Immediately, I rose to my feet, shut the door, and headed down the long corridor. My demons were screeching inside of my head, clawing at the walls of my mangled scalp, just itching to get a sight of my Christine.

_'Disgusting fool, you are! Thinking all those thoughts of Christine, while you know she belongs to The Vicomte!'_

Shaking my head incessantly, I soon heard quick footsteps behind me. Turning around, my face was met with the palm of her delicate hand. My cheek stung, but nothing I couldn't bare. Oh my Christine, she was crying. Her eyes were cloudy with salty pearls as they dripped furiously down her reddened cheeks. The crease in her forehead was visible as her body stood formidably in front of me.

"HOW _DARE_ YOU SPEAK TO ME THAT WAY ERIK DESTLER!" Her voice was no longer angelic. It bounced off the white walls of the corridor and into the caverns of my hollow chest, constricting my heart.

"I-... I'm sorry... I just..."

"No! You _don't_ get to speak! Listen to me, Erik. I am here, because I want to be. I swam back, because I realized that I could not live without you, without my angel. You are a part of me. Without you, I would be empty. If this was useless pity, then I wouldn't have gotten into that ice cold lake and swam back to you. How dare you accuse me of useless pity! You do not know my thoughts and you do not know how much I care about you. I wish I never left the lair in the first place. It was foolish of me, okay? Is that what you want? Is that what you wanted to hear? That I would rather end my days with you? That I would rather end my days with _you_ to free The Vicomte of your stupid lasso, not out of pity, but out of love, respect, and true loyalty? Well, there you go! There it is, Erik. My confession! I, Christine Daaé, rather end my days with The Phantom of The Opera... Not out of pity, but out of love and true loyalty. Does Erik understand? _Does he?_" Her sharp words pierced my ears as she stood, shaking to her very bones. Her hands trembled with fear as her she attempted to take a few measly breaths to slow down her rapid inhalations.

I nodded slowly, trying to take in her words. Her mouth moved fluidly as her words spilled like honey from a jar. I had never seen her so revved. I watched her ruby lips move in concordance with her accusations. At this point, I wasn't even listening to what she was saying. I truly did not enjoy yelling at her. I just have a bit of a temper. Oh Christine, My Christine... I'm sorry you had to see it... See everything monstrous about me...

"Erik? Erik? Are you even listening to me?" Blinking slowly, I placed my hands on each side of her face and brought my lips closer to hers. Placing a chaste kiss onto her lips, I stepped back to find a flustered girl. "W-What... I... E... E-Erik..." Without another word, she pushed past me and ran into her bedroom, leaving me out of breath and alone in the hallway.

_'Stupid fool! To think she'd actually return a kiss to that atrocious face of yours! Ha! Not even your own mother wanted to look at you!'_

Four Hours Later

Christine, My Christine was sitting out on the balcony which faced east. It overlooked the coast and sandy beaches. Her lavender dress fell around her on the floor as she fanned herself, the fan pure white just as her innocence was. Discarding of my dress coat, I was left in my black button down shirt, tie, and vest. My dark slacks accompanied my attire. I never wore anything else, besides suits. Hesitantly, I approached the girl that sat lonely outside the French doors.

"Christine... My Christine..." Her eyes shut, a singular tear falling down her pale cheek. I knelt down beside her, taking her fan from her. My heart ached for her love, her voice, her guidance. I wanted Christine, all of her. Yet, I knew that no such woman - no such woman like Christine, my Christine - would want the same from me. Not someone that look liked me. No! Not a murderer! She would be foolish to love someone like me. She would be injudicious to spare a momentary thought for a monster, who can barely call himself a mark of a man. "My Christine, why do you shed tears?" With my gloved hand, I reach up to wipe away the painful droplets that have made their way down to her jaw. Before I could separate my hand from her skin, her tiny hand pressed my hand against her cheek.

"Why do you wear gloves? I wish to feel your hands against my cheek..." Her eyes were glazed over from crying, I suppose. Sighing lightly, I took the seat next to her.

"My hands do not hold the same angelic beauty that your hands do. They are mangled and calloused... Yellowed and... Well, my Christine... They are not human, monstrous to match my misshapen face..."

"You know I do not care about your face. I find it _beautiful._ Your hands are probably equally as _intoxicating_..." Her voice was silky, her gaze entranced.

"It is not beautiful! It is atrocious! My face... My own mother shunned me to hell... To where I spawned from-"

"Enough! If we are to live together, then you are to learn how to love yourself. Head to toe, Erik. Your voice is miraculous. I would not have the voice I do, if it weren't for your voice first. And your fingers, oh your fingers, they work wonders when they make contact with the keys of a piano or the strings of a violin! You are truly an angel sent from heaven! You neither were shunned to hell or spawned from the devil! No! Erik, you are my Angel... Mon ange... Do you understand?"

Nodding my head, an airy laugh escaped my lips. Unable to control it, a kind smile spread across my face.

"Are you just nodding in understanding so I will stop complimenting you?"

"Guilty." I replied with a genuine smile I had not smiled in years.

"Then I shall compliment you for days on end if that means you might actually agree with me for once."

One Hour Later

"Christine, my Christine? A letter has arrived for you. It is from The Vicomte." I seethe through my teeth. With a courteous smile, the pads of my fingertips brush the sides of wrists as she grabs the envelope from my hands.

"Thank you, Erik." Turning to return to her room, my Christine turns around once more. "Before I forget, we are to have dinner together, Erik."

"I do not have dinner with anybody." I state with a grave expression.

"That is quite sad. Well, you are to have dinner with me tonight." Before I could argue, the slam of her door interrupted my thoughts.

Moments later, a sound of great trouble caught my attention. Running to her door, I began furiously knocking.

"Christine! Oh my Christine, I cannot come in until you give me permission! Christine!" My palms were slamming onto the hardwood as Siré joined me. The door was locked to our dismay. "Open this door! Christine! Open this door right now!" Seconds later, a shaken girl opened the door. Her breathing was deep, uneven. She lurched over her armoire, her shoulders rising and falling in unsteady beats. Rushing to her side, I picked up the letter.

"Christine... Leaving behind... Evidence... Lair... Be with you..." I skimmed through the letter, not understanding the grief stricken girl beside me. "Christine? My Christine, tell me what is wrong. I want to help you..." I whispered against her skin.

"Raoul... It's not... This letter is not from Raoul... It is about Raoul... You lied to me! _You said he was alright!_" She stood up and began throwing her hairbrushes at me. Grabbing her wrists, she began to attempt to hit me on the chest. My strength over took her as I pinned her arms above her head and against the wall. "You told me he was okay! Why did you lie! Erik... Why..." Her sons filled the room as I released her wrists. Her body melted into mine as I clutched her close. My heart began to race as her hands grasped the fabric of my shirt.

"I had to, I could not let you know the truth in the state of sickness you were in, my Christine..." Picking her underneath the legs, her arms in response wrapped my neck.

_'Oh Erik, must you think those thoughts now? This woman! She is voluntarily touching you! Oh how you wish she was yours.'_

Grumbling at the voices inside my head, I placed Christine, my Christine on the bed.

"I shall have Siré bring you your dinner. Rest, dear. We will talk tomorrow." Leaning down, I placed my lips tenderly on her temple as she looked away from me. Truly, she hated me! I should have known. No one really loves a beast like me.


	5. Chapter 4

**Four**

"Erik." Christine's voice pierced the humid air as she broke my piano playing. Looking towards the girl, she walked towards me, taking the seat beside me on the piano bench. "What happened to Raoul? Do not even think about lying to me." She demanded. Swallowing hard, I covered the keys and straightened out my vest.

With a sluggish sigh, I began the with the truth.

"The Vicomte went back down to the lair to look for you. Surely, he thought it was another one of my tricks. He did not yet know of my skills in architecture and trapdoors. He brought three others down there - A detective, his brother, and someone else I do not know the name of - assuring that there is where The Opera Ghost resided and kept Christine captive. When they arrived, there was no lair. No lasso, no piano, no bed... Everything had been... Washed away, I suppose. He kept screaming at the three others that he swore The Opera Ghost existed. He swore that he was kept in the Punjab Lasso. It was wiped clean once the water was drained out into the ocean. I removed all of my equipment before I released the flood gates. I planned everything out, before I took the stage during Don Juan. My lasso is in a confidential location. In any case, The Vicomte went crazy screaming at them, trying to explain the mystery of the lair. They declared him mentally insane by hallucinations. He is in the psych ward. I visit him often-"

"To play with his head?! Erik, how dare you?!" She stood up angrily, but before she could escaped once more, I grabbed her wrist with haste.

"I visit him to reassure your safety. He knows that what he saw beneath The Opera House was true. I often apologize for what I did, but never for your decision to come back to me. I tell him to play along with the ward's game. I will get him out as soon as I can. There has not been an optimal time slot that I have been able to formulate an escape route for The Vicomte. He worries for you, so. I am simply there for him to make sure he plays his role... Correctly."

"There's a catch, isn't there?" Shutting her eyes, she shook her head and sighed heavily.

"Of course."

"If you help him escape, he is to let me stay with you. Did I get it right, Erik?" Releasing her wrist, she slammed her fist down onto the piano. She breathed in and out, rapidly. I was not quite sure if her tiny body could keep up with the speed at which she was breathing. With one more breath, she leaned closer to me. "Truly, I do not know whether to kiss you innumerably in gratitude for helping The Vicomte escape and have a second chance or storm out of this room in disgust for your selfish agreement with The Vicomte." She paused for what seemed like years. Coughing to break the tension, I spoke once more.

"You could kiss me, then storm out in disgust."

| Christine |

"There's a catch, isn't there?" The safety of The Vicomte was surely true, but I knew Erik better than he thought. Shutting my eyes, I sighed greatly and glanced back at the masked man in front of me.

"Of course." He said as if everything has come with a catch.

"If you help him escape, he is to let me stay with you. Did I get it right, Erik?" My body shook with trepidation. My mind could not wrap around this concept of a deal. My heart was torn into two pieces, then shattered into tinier bits. The image of The Vicomte in the lair with the other three fled my mind. Truly, I could defend him and his so called insanity. I was there! Oh Raoul... If only they knew that we were down there in The Phantom's lair! I noticed that I was breathing much harder than before. My chest rose and fell quickly. My lungs were running out of oxygen to feed on around me. I was in a situation that I never thought was possible. Leaning forward, I looked the masked man in the eyes. "Truly, I do not know whether to kiss you innumerably in gratitude for helping The Vicomte escape and have a second change or storm out of this room in disgust for your selfish agreement with The Vicomte." Stopping briefly, Erik coughed to break the tension.

"You could kiss me, then storm out in disgust."

A side of Erik I had not yet seen. My cheeks began to feel hot as I'm sure a red tint fled to the surfaces. His cheeky remark gave my heart palpitations as I smiled widely. He looked as though he did not believe that sentence came out of his mouth! His head lowered to face the floor, but I saw the smile that enraptured his face. He was like a small boy again, sitting in the schoolyard with his crush. Bashful. My Erik, was bashful and I could not be happier for it. Lifting his chin with my hand, his equally hot cheeks met my face as we sat centimeters apart. Breathing hard, I leaned forward and captured our lips together in a feverish kiss. His hands remained glued to his sides as he rose to his feet. My arms wrapped around his neck. Oh, how I longed to feel his hands on my waist! Pushing my body into his, he tripped backwards causing his hands to fly to my sides to catch me.

"S-Sorry..." He stuttered out as we separated our lips. "Are you going to storm out of the room now?" Shaking my head slowly, his expression soon grew perplexed. "My Christine, I cannot touch you like I would like to... Your kisses... I am not worthy... Erik is not worthy... I cannot..." Before he could ramble about his said worthlessness, I pressed my lips once more to his swelled lips, which now I paid no attention to.

"Erik must learn that he is worthy of everything I give him. Christine, his Christine would not be here if it were not for Erik, okay?"

The masked man stood silent for what seemed like hours, until he parted his lips in a momentary weakness.

"Anything for you, My Christine..."


	6. Chapter 5

**Five **

Erik had been out all day on business, I'm sure. Siré escaped the back room and curiously, I skipped over to the housemaid.

"What is in that room, Siré?" She froze in her tracks, her eyes immediately falling to the floor.

"Oh, just Mr. Destler's office. He keeps it very private. He gave me specific instructions to dust the bookshelves and desk, then to leave as soon as I finish dusting. No one is allowed in there besides myself and Mr. Destler. I don't dare look at anything he has on his desk. He keeps many of his masks in there, though." Siré sighed, moving past me with a gentle smile. I pondered for a moment, waiting for the young girl to exit the long corridor. Curiosity got the best of me as I moved towards the dark room.

The walls were a dark red, such like my bedroom. Posters from many of the operas I appeared in decorated the walls as I peered around the dim room. Never a bright room in Erik's life. A display of white, black, red, and nude colored masks dawned the shelves to my left as I entered the room caught attention. Many of the masks were full face masks. I wondered why he never wore those around me. Brushing the thought off my shoulders, I continued to the bookshelf. Blushing at the books he carried, I took one book off the shelf. _The Pleasures of A Woman_ I whispered as I read the title. Erik carried many erotic novels. I imagine that is why he did not let anybody in this room. Turning around, a jeweled box on his desk caught my attention. Approaching the desk, to my dismay I found that the jeweled box was locked. Sighing loudly, I sat on the desk chair and searched his desk endlessly for the key.

"Looking for something, Miss Daaé?" Erik's smooth voice muttered from behind me as I froze in my movements, just as Siré had done before me. Turning slowly, the white mask I had grown so accustomed to stood facing me. His stature was tall. I could not quite read his expression, as the room was quite dim. His black suit fit him well as I let my eyes trail up and down his body in a momentary lapse of weakness. "I asked you a question." He repeated with a more harsh connotation. Startled by his tone, I stood to meet his fiery gaze.

"What is in that locked box of yours, Erik? I thought we had no secrets between us. Yet, here we stand in your cavern full of secrets." He smiled a coy smile while he pulled a tiny key from his pocket with uttering a word.

"There is so much you do not know about me, dear. In that locked box is everything I do not wish for you to see. Although, I do plan on getting a lock for the door. This room was meant to be my own secretive place to hide. Sort of like my new lair." He breathed down my throat, sending chills down my spine. I could hardly hear what he was saying, my thoughts were so clouded.

"I don't recall your old lair having erotic novels, _Mr. Destler..._"

| Erik |

"I don't recall your old lair having erotic novels, _Mr. Destler..." _Oh, the way she purred my name! Did she do this deliberately? My body tensed at my name as she closed the gap between us. Her eyes moved towards the shelf. Truly, I only carried maybe five novels of the kind which she referred to. It just so happens that her innocence landed upon them! What a fool I am to keep them!

"My deformity makes me a appear a monster, but I assure you, I am still a man." Straightening out my vest, I stepped aside as she crossed her arms across her chest.

"That does not sound like loving yourself, Monsieur Destler." The French words left her lips like the finest silk being stitched for the highest of royalty.

"It is a work in progress, Christine, my Christine. Shall we move this to the living room? It is quite dark in here. I wish to see your face, please." With no other words, her elegant hand took mine and led me to the living room. "Much better. I enjoy looking upon your exquisite face."

"Tell me, Erik. Where did you go today?" Sitting down, she gestured for me to sit beside her. Did she truly want me to sit beside her? Hesitantly, I stood across from her.

"I went... I went to see The Victome. My escape route is becoming more clear. He shall be out in three weeks, if my plan goes through well. Then, you shall return to The Vicomte. He will need someone to take care of him." She shook her head, her tiny fists balled up and pounding on the couch.

"No! I will not return to The Vicomte! Erik. From the bottom of my heart, I appreciate you rescuing The Vicomte, but I do not wish to return to him. This is now my home. I live with you, Erik." Her words confused me as I sat beside her, startled by her statement she laid before me.

"You cannot stay here forever, Christine. This cannot be your permanent home..." I said under my breath as lowered my head in shame. Oh, how I wish she could stay here forever. _No! It is wrong. She cannot! _

"Why not? Why can't I stay with you, Erik? Why are you so vehement about me leaving you? Only a month ago were you demanding that I marry you-"

"That's just it!" I stood in anger, shaking my head and pressing my hands against my head in detestation. Crouching down, I buried my face into my hands in embarrassment. Tears fled to my eyes as I began to uncontrollably sob.

"What? What is just it? Erik! Speak to me, please!" She raced in front of me, pulling my hands down from my face. She pressed my head to her chest, rocking me back and forth. "Sh... Sh... Erik... I'm here..." Her fingers trickled up and down my back, giving me a new sensation I had never felt before. Her voice was so soothing.

"Whenever I cowered and began to cry, my mother used to tell me to shut up and would shove me into the closet, only to forget me there for days... Why are you being so kind to me?" Raising my head, my tear stained eyes met her icy blue ones. Her eyes were hurt as I spoke of my mother.

"I am not your mother. I care for you so deeply, Erik. Tell me why I cannot stay here... Tell me why I cannot care for you..." Siting across from her, she wiped my tears with her handkerchief. Taking a deep breath, I straightened my posture as I leaned towards the angel in front of me.

"You cannot stay here, because it is wrong for me to share a home with someone that is not my wife. You are not my wife. You still wear his ring, Christine... Oh my Christine... Oh, how I wish you were my wife... Then you could stay here forever..."

She paused for a moment, glancing down at the engagement ring The Vicomte bestowed upon her left hand. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath inwards. We sat like this for what seemed like a thousand more years. I was willing to wait a thousand years for her reply.

"Erik..." She breathed out with her eyes still shut.

"Yes? I'm still here. I'll always be here... What is it, Christine?"

Slowly, her blue eyes shown once more. She sighed loudly and looked towards me.

"Take it off, Erik. I want to see your face." Shock surged through my body as her demand grew louder. "Please. I will not look away or scream."

"C-Christine... I..." Her hands crept up to my face as I sat deathly still at her angelic touch. My breathing picked up as her elegant fingers crept underneath the porcelain, pulling it slowly over my face. The cool air hit my mangled face, giving me chills. I am sure I have not blinked in several minutes now. She smiled softly, the pads of her fingertips running over each distorted scar that my face held. Her body moved towards mine as she set her body in between my legs.

"Does it hurt?" I shook my head, earning another gentle caress from the angel some magnificent unearthly being has blessed me with today. "May I kiss you?"

"Surely, you do not want to kiss a face li-" My protests were soon cut off by the warmth of her lips. Oh, how soft they were! The warmth spread in and throughout my body as she leaned forward. I placed my arms behind me, in order to support the weight of both our bodies, moving in such a romantic way.

"Erik, touch me. Do not be afraid. I will not bite you." Her laugh was the single most beautiful harmony I have ever been graced to hear! It was far better than anything I have ever written!

"I do not know how to touch a woman - to touch my Christine. I do not wish to hurt you." I whispered as we pulled apart. In an instant, I wished for her lips to be upon mine once more. It felt empty in my stomach as she left the confines of my body.

"You won't hurt me. Here, like this," She took my hands and placed them on her waist and began to move them up and down. A sensation I have never had the pleasure of knowing! "Erik, hold me. That is all I wish. Take me to your bedroom and hold me."

"I cannot take you to my bedroom for-"

"No, I do not wish for you to _take me to bed with you, _I just wish to lie in bed with you." She cocked her head slightly as she wrapped her arms around my neck, placing gentle kisses on my neck, tempting me so.

"I understand that, Christine... But... I do not have a bedroom to lie with you in, my Christine..." Embarrassingly, I let out a small chuckle. "I hardly sleep, my Christine. Siré has a bedroom, as do you. Erik, does not." She smiled widely, rising to her feet. Reaching her hand out for mine, I grabbed my mask and took her hand.

"Then come into my room and lie down with me. Please, Erik?" Her voice filled my ears as I walked towards my angel. Soon, she began to sing quietly a melody I knew all too well, entrancing me even further into the beauty and magnificence she held.

_Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime  
Say the word and I will follow you  
Share each day with me, each night, each morning..._


	7. Chapter 6

**Six **

There we lay, my Christine in my arms. Her body melt into mine so perfectly. She begged of me not to put my masked back on, oh how could I refuse such a voice as hers? Her curls fell down and around her shoulders as her silk night gown cascaded the bed covers. It is a particularly humid night, we saw no need to get under the throw tonight. As we lay against the head board, she exhaled a shaky breath, worrying me innumerably.

"Is something wrong, my Christine? Are you uncomfortable? Would you like me to leave?" She sat up, turning around to face me. Placing her fingertips against my lacerations, she peered down at her left hand.

"Erik... I cannot do this any longer..." Tears brimmed in her peripherals as she covered her face with the pale fingers I love so dearly. Taking her into my arms, I rocked her back and forth just as she did before for me.

"Do what? Christine, my Christine..." She took a deep breath before separating herself from my embrace. Slowly, my eyes trailed down to her hands. Taking off The Victome's token of his love, she placed the diamond ring in the bedside table. "Christine Daaé, what are you doing? You... _You do not wish to marry The Vicomte?_ You... do not wish to be a Vicomtesse?" My mind was racing in perplexity. I sat back in pure confusion as she took a moment to herself. I too needed a moment.

"I do not know what I wish right now, Erik... I just want to lay down with you. Do you think you could hold me for the night, Erik? Please..." Her feathery voice was broken from her sudden decision. Choking on her words, I nodded quickly, scooping her once again into my arms. Nestling in my arms, she began to hum an unfamiliar tone.

For months I watched her from behind the mirror, profess her love for The Vicomte. She swore that he could love her better than I ever could! Oh, her protests grow louder in the grottoes of my skull! In the lair, I was on my knees in front of her, grasping onto the fabric of her dress. I begged for her not to accept The Vicomte's hand in marriage.

* * *

**Six Nights Before The Masquerade Ball **

My Christine stood before me, holding out The Victome's diamond ring. How dare she come down to my lair and gallivant his false affection to me! The ring shimmered in the candle light as she placed it back in her coin purse. I could not just simply pretend it is not in my presence! My mind was exploding in violent thoughts towards The Vicomte. My fists began to gather as my Christine began to defend the fool in front of me.

"He is truly a gentleman, Erik... I have known him for a long time. We have been friends since my father passed away. He comforted me at my father's passing. I was truly surprised when he showed up in my dressing room after Hannibal. I guess that we have just been getting closer over the months..." I remained silent as she continued to profess her love for the fool. With my back turned towards her, I lifted my hand in detestation of her proclamations. "I did not give him an answer, Erik. I couldn't say yes, but I couldn't say no. I told him I would have an answer by the New Year."

"I do not see what you see in this man." Turning to face my Christine, she stood there with her head held low. I took small steps to her, before falling to my knees. I wrapped my arms around her thighs and grasped onto the fabric of her dress. My hands were trembling and my mask was shifting. I didn't care.

"Erik... Get up, you'll ruin your suit..." She muttered as her hands fled to my hair.

"I will ruin every suit I have if it means I would have you. Christine... Oh Christine... He does not deserve you! Your talent is wasted by a man like Raoul. He does not appreciate your voice. He does not appreciate your beauty. I would give anything to have you as my own. To call you mine is my greatest wish, Christine. I would wait centuries if that meant I got the privilege of being with you. Oh Christine, my Christine, I would kill every person for you! Every bad man who has ever hurt you, I would murder. I would be killed if that meant your safety. Crucify me, Christine! I plead guilty to every sin I have ever committed! Please, Christine... Oh Christine, do not marry The Vicomte! I beg of you, come and live with me! I will take you to a new home and I will buy you whatever you like! Money is of no problem! Just please... do not marry The Vicomte! Do not leave me here alone, without your voice... Your touch... Your hands... Please..." I trailed off into nonsense as her quiet sobbing caught my attention. Standing to meet her gaze, I took my trembling hands and shakily removed my wig and mask. With a deep inhalation, I cupped her face with my gloved hands. "I will no longer bare a mask if you vow to come live with me. I will show you love, my love. Christine, I love you... Please, do not leave me for The Vicomte... My maimed face no longer scares you... I am willing to bare it all for you... I love you... I love you..."

"E-Erik..." Her breathing was hitched by her tears as they streamed down her face. Shaking her head, she grabbed her purse and placed a salty kiss on my brutalized cheek. "Take me back to my dressing room... I can no longer be down here. I have to be alone to make this decision..."

* * *

The Next Morning

| Christine |

I awoke to an empty bed and no engagement ring on my finger. Had I truly gone mad? I was to be married to The Vicomte! Raoul was truly a good man. He had his drinking habits, but he always returned to me. Intoxicated more or less... Sigh. Sitting up, I brushed through my hair with my fingers before a quiet knocking began.

"It's Siré. Monsieur Destler has requested your presence at breakfast once you have freshened up, Christine. Do you need any help?" The pleasant voice spoke from the other side of the door.

"No, that's fine. I'll just wash my face for now. Do you think you can draw me a bath later?"

"Of course. I will let Monsieur Destler know that you are to join him at breakfast soon. Oh and Christine, the gift that he brought is on your vanity in the tiny green box with the white ribbon. He forgot to give it to you." My eyes immediately went to my vanity, spotting the exact gift she described.

"Thank you!" I shouted, excited about the tiny box. Making my way over to my vanity, I sat down on the bench and inspected the box. Surely, Erik did not tie this ribbon himself. "_My Christine._" The tag read. Opening the box, a beautiful emerald hair pin laid in some cotton. The emerald gem laid in the middle of porcelain flower. Gasping at the pure beauty of it, I realized at the cost of it. Oh, this must have cost him so much! Placing the box down, I finished washing my face and getting dressed into a green dress, to match my hair pin. Hoping he notices my hair pin, I made my way out to the breakfast nook.

"My Christine, you are finally awake. It is practically eleven. How are you feeling?" Erik's genial voice echoed from the farthest seat as he placed the newspaper down.

"I'm quite well. Do you notice anything, Erik?" I did a mini-curtsy, hoping he would see the hair pin.

"I noticed it from the moment you exited your bedroom. Do you like it? I saw it in the window on the way to the train station." Soon, my arm were around his neck as I pulled his body near mine in a tight embrace. He smelled of roses! Placing a kiss on his masked cheek, I sat beside him in the nook.

"It is absolutely wonderful! It must have cost you so much. I can't even believe it. Thank you so much, Erik." He smiled gently, taking a sip of tea. "Won't you eat?" My tone turned concerned once I saw a full plate of untouched food in front of him.

"I cannot eat without taking off my mask. Siré has not yet seen my face without my mask on, dear. I will eat later. I have plans for us today, anyway." Perking up at his proposition, I leaned in closer to the masked man.

"Plans? What kind of plans, Monsieur?" He smiled slyly, taking another sip.

"We are going shopping. If you were serious about what you said last night, then you are going to need a few things of your own in this home. You are running out of dresses, as well. It is simply a day for your needs..." I suddenly began to realize what I had said last night. Glancing down at my hand, there was a tan line where The Vicomte's ring once laid.

"I am. I just need to write a letter to him. Is that okay?" Erik nodded and soon, I had a piece of paper and a pen in front of me.

"I will be eating in my office. Come get me once you are finished." With a chaste kiss to my forehead, the masked man disappeared into the long corridor.

"_ To: Raoul, The Vicomte de Chagny _

_Dearest Raoul, _

_I miss you dearly. I have heard the good news about you... and the bad. Erik tells me that you are in a pysch ward, but do not worry. You will be out soon. Oh Raoul, I wish I were there to defend you. I hate to be writing letters to you. I wish we were face to face. Erik tells me if I were to visit you, the escape route could be ruined. All I can really say is that I miss you dearly... Raoul, there is no easy way to tell you this and this is why I wish so desperately that we were face to face... I do not wish to be married to you any longer. It is not because of Erik. Do not punish him. We are not together. I did not commit adultery against you. We are different Raoul. We are better as best friends. You were there for me when my father passed. You were always there for me and I cannot thank you enough for that. But I cannot marry you for those reasons. I need someone to be there for me when I need them, not to be my husband. I am not yet ready to be married to be a wife. I fear that I am too immature to take on the role of a wife, especially to someone as a great as you. Let my wings grow and I will learn to fly on my own._

_You will always be in my heart, Raoul. Never forget that. Until we meet again, _

_Christine Daa_é "

Sealing the letter, I placed it on the table near the door for Siré to take to the postal office on her way to her sister's house today. Returning to the back office, I knocked quietly.

"Erik? Are you in there?"

"Yes, come in, my Christine." Sitting in his desk chair, the empty tray of food was pushed aside as had a pen in his hand.

"What were you doing?"

"I was heading to the music room. Come with me, my Christine. I am working on a new song for you. You must be craving to sing again. I know I am _thirsting_ for your voice..." We made our way to the music room and soon, he was sat at the piano.

"La Belle? Is that your new opera for me?" The man nodded, looking at me with a serious expression. "Erik, we need to discuss something before we start a lesson." He halted in his movements, taking my hands in his.

"Is something wrong, my Christine?" I shook my head, taking a deep breath.

"Erik... In my letter to Raoul, I told him I was not ready to marry him-"

"Oh, Christine!"

"No! Stop talking, Erik. _Let me explain something first_. I told him I was too immature to get married. I also told him that I was not ready to take on the duties of wife and that is why I couldn't marry him." Erik sat in front of me, eager to speak. "I made sure he knew that I did not cheat on him. I do not want him thinking that I am whore. I do love him, Erik. I just do not think it is in the way he wishes... I just cannot stop thinking about that night I came to you when Raoul proposed to me. I have to tell you right now Erik, just because I told him I am not ready to marry _him,_ does not mean I am ready to marry_ you._ If we are to live together and I am to be single again, we are to be cautious and take things slowly. I want a correct courtship. Is that okay, Erik?" He sat in silence, keeping me in utter suspension. "Erik? You can speak now."

"Oh, Christine! My Christine!" Erik stood up and placed his hands on my shoulders. "I do understand! Well, courtship I will have to learn, but I assume that you will be there to teach me. I am willing to wait until the planets are aligned once more for you to be mine. Christine, my Christine, you have made me happier than any of my music has!" Bringing me into a tight embrace, I smiled widely at the man's happiness. Truly, I had not seen him any more elated. Before we separated bodies, i grabbed his hands and paused in his motions above the piano keys.

"Well, what do you know? _I_ get to teach _you_ something. Christine Daaé, the teacher and Erik Destler, the student." With a smirk, he brought my hands to his lips and brushed them gently with soft kisses.

"I am glad then, that you are my teacher."


	8. Chapter 7

**Seven**

The air was moist and humid as we finally came to a tiny furniture story in the heart of the city. I immediately regret wearing a hat. Erik grabbed my hand gently, helping me as I stepped out of the carriage. Met with the humid air, we strode down the uneven sidewalk and into the airy store.

"Pick out anything you'd like, my Christine. I want you to be comfortable in our home. Until we move, of course. What is yours, is mine." His words sparked a deep inquiry in me as I halted in my footing.

"Move? I'm just getting comfortable, though!" Walking around the store, I stopped at a beautiful vanity. The mirror had beautiful jewelry embedded into the glass, while the woodwork was lacquered to a perfect gloss. Three drawers adorned the dark wood, the legs of the vanity elegant in every way.

"Of course. I have already spoken to Siré about it. We need another home. I have already picked it out, my Christine. May I have the pleasure of showing it to you today?" Following closely behind me, Erik's soothing voice filled the quiet store. His gloved hand soon found the small of my back, protectively as he ushered me around the store.

"Oh, Erik! I would love for you to show me! I do wonder though... Why are we moving? The house that we have now is beautiful." I murmured, searching around and peering at all the wood work that surrounded me.

"The home that I have picked out, is much bigger. It will suit you better. It is a bit farther from The Opera House, but it has a great rehearsal room for us to continue our lessons. It is secluded. No one shall find us..." He trailed off into nonsense before lowering his head. Awkwardly scratching is neck, I tilted my head in concern.

"Is something wrong, Erik?" He lifted his head, taking my hands in his.

"My Christine, I have promised The Vicomte that he is to stay with us for a week after I free him from the ward. He is in no physical shape to be alone in The de Chagny estate. His father and brother are away on business in Germany. He is very excited to see you, my Christine." A satiated warmth spread throughout my body as the news of The Vicomte's stay flowed past Erik's lips. "I hope that makes you happy, my Christine. My paramount goal in life is to always put your happiness before anything else." Placing a subtle, yet yearning kiss on his masked cheek, I pulled back to find his gaze locked upon mine.

"What? Is there something on my face?" His pithy fixed eyes upon my face turned graceful as the back of his hand caressed my left cheek.

"Nothing, but absolute perfection. Come, pick something else out besides this vanity. Surely, you will want a new bed and armoire. Perhaps a sowing chair or a sitting table for all the illustrious reading you do?" With a coy smile, I pushed his shoulder swiftly before passing by him, moving to another piece of furniture. "I have already given them more than enough of a payment. Pick out whatever you'd like, my Christine. I will be down the street at Délphine's Music searching for new instruments. I am not fond of moving large instruments from one place to another. I am only moving my organ." With an austere kiss to my temple, the masked man escaped my presence once again. Walking around the store I found a perfect bed frame. The carving in the wood had Lilly's all around and the stems, which grew around the frame. I could just imagine laying in bed with Erik on a Sunday morning, while the bed frame matched all the furniture around us in _our _new bedroom,

"Excuse me, what kind of wood is this bed frame made out of, Monsieur? It's exquisite!" The store clerk came rushing by my side, examining the bed.

"It is made of the finest oak. Would you like to purchase it?" The pleasant voice of the man enticed me to purchase it yet, the price deterred me for a moment.

"Oh, how I would love to purchase it. The price is too much though. 3,000 francs for an oak wood bed frame? I don't know if a bed frame is really worth that much... I am perfectly content with the bed frame I have now." I muttered under my breath, hoping the clerk did not hear my neglectful comments.

"With all due respect, Mademoiselle Daaé, your friend Monsieur Destler has given me much more than three thousand francs. Whatever is left over from your purchases, I will return to you to give back to the Monsieur. I assure you, Monsieur Destler has made sure that everything you want has been previously taken care of."

With a deep sigh, I reluctantly nodded. Picking out a few more items, the clerk returned me the total change of seven thousand francs. Astonished by the change, I made my way down the street. Soon, Erik's music permeated throughout Délphine's as I strutted towards the string section. A breathy suspire left my lips as I stood, astounded by the skill of my Erik. His fingers worked the strings of the violin meticulously, as the arm that moved the bow so fluidly, bewitched me under a spell I could not contain in the hollows of my chest alone. My hands quivered at the phantasmal image that was being presented before me. It was as if he was in his own palace, performing for thousands. Frozen and aghast, the smallest of susurrations escaped my desperate lips.

"Christine... My Christine..." He exhaled. Putting the violin to his side and the bow to the other, he turned to face me. "I had a symphony stirring in my mind all morning. The way your chocolate curls fell over the emerald hair pin like the abysmal waters of Niagara, inspired me and I simply just had to release the notes onto an instrument. It ached inside the pit of my opaque soul ... I lusted for the symphony to reach the keys of a piano, the strings and bow of a violin... I so deeply desiderate for the music jarring between the walls of my butchered skull. I so deeply want to attain the lips of my angel that stands in front of me..." His voice was sultry, his eyes held a lascivious illumination as he closed the distance that held us apart for much too long. How he was keeping his breathing down at a slow pace, with such control, I have no idea. Staring down at me was the mask I have come to know too well. "Do I frighten you, _mon amour_?" The French words effortlessly fell from his swollen lips as his kind hand nuzzled the space to my jaw from my neck, resting the pads of his gloved fingertips below my earlobe. "Answer me, Christine."

"Never could you frighten me, Monsieur." I answered boldly to the man before me.

"Your eyes are clouded with fear. Your jaw trembles with panic. Why do you shy away from me so, my Christine?" With a shaky inhalation, I grabbed his gloved hand and pressed it to my racing heart. His eyes shot to my feverish gaze as he struggled underneath my steady hand.

"It is not fear I feel, Erik. It is desire and fervor. Your music, your fingers, your passion... Everything you are and everything you have made me to be... are standing right in front of you, presenting herself to you, evermore. Her heart beating endlessly in synchronization to all of your breathtaking symphonies." Before I could speak more words of pure adoration, his grip was around my arm, ushering me towards the carriage awaiting us outside the shop.

About thirty minutes later, we arrived in a beautiful forest. I had never really seen a true forest in Paris. Trees of many variations surrounded a mansion that was interwoven into the cover of the leaves. The mansion was a dark grey, the shutters a glossy black. The French doors that welcomed any visitors were bright red with a gold knocker. Two stories high, the mansion stood tall. The driveway was a semi circle of cobble stone. Statues of lions adorned the banister leading up to the French doors as you arrived to the mansion in the forest. Simply, my breath was taken from me.

"Erik! This isn't a house! This is a palace!" I shrieked at the man in front of me. Startled at my outburst, he adjusted his mask. "How could you ever afford this?"

"Do not worry about finances. This is my home as much as it is yours. It is our new hideaway. We have our own assistants. You have Siré at your full disposal, now. A full staff, to your liking. I have done all the checking to their backgrounds and I have briefed them on the history of my face. Although, I did... Make it a bit more interesting. I shall tell you later of my vicious tiger scratch that lay underneath this mask." With a wink, he rested his hand on top of mine. "In any case, do you like your new home?"

"Our new home."

* * *

Two Days Later

The Opera House was bustling as the news of a new opera made its way around the crew and performers. Firmin and André gallivanted around the stage, throwing around their letters from the legendary Opera Ghost, angrily in protestation. I couldn't help, but laugh at their confusion. Meg stood beside me, stretching out our muscles. I didn't quite know what the content of the letters were, but I knew Erik had an idea for La Belle.

"Where is that blasted, Daaé?" A screechy voice rang out throughout the acoustically sound walls.

I arose to my feet at the sound of my name, only to see a raging La Carlotta. Rolling my eyes, I turned back to face Meg.

"She's crazy, don't worry about her..." Meg whispered as we began working on our ballet positions.

"Did you not hear me? Christine Daaé! You are demanded to be the lead in the new opera. Didn't you hear? I cannot believe that damned Opera Ghost! After all the hard work I have done for this place, the Opera Ghost does not want anything to do with me!" She belted out with a huff of frustration.

"No, Madame Piangi. I did not." I replied with a terse exhale.

"Well, congratulations. You are the lead in _La Belle. _Me, I am just nothing to this damn Opera House! Nothing!" Melodramatic tears fell down her melodramatic cheeks as she stormed off of the stage.

Silence fell over the stage as Firmin walked towards me, handing me the letter.

"Read it. Now."

" _Firmin & André " _The outside read.

" _I have a new opera for you. I do hope you listen to my instructions this time. Hannibal was an utter disaster, apart from Miss Daaé. As for Don Juan Triumphant, do I need to do the bold movement of reminding you two of your beloved chandelier? I do not believe you wish to relive that nightmare. La Bellé is a far more simple opera for the more simple minded. The music is no less simple, though. Always a masterpiece, I create for you. Your queue shall not be altered. I do request three demands. _

_One, Christine Daaé is to be given the lead role of Anastié or I do warn you, there are worse things than two shattered chandeliers. _

_Two, I request that this time, you do keep box five open for my use. Please from the bottom of my empty heart that you keep it open. So help God, I will set fire to your office. _

_And three, you need a new first violinist and a third trombone. It sounded rusty. Does not your musicians know how to clean their instruments? It is simple instrumental hygiene I ask of your orchestra. _

_Ignore my commands and I might just give you a flash of my mangled soul. Do not test me, men. Christine will sing first soprano. Box five will be open for my use. The instruments will be replaced and or cleaned. _

_Your Faithful Ghost, _

_PTO. " _

Rolling my eyes at Erik's demands, I glance at the unnerved owners of the Opera House.

"Why aren't you freaking out about the threatening letter? I do not want another broken chandelier! We can't afford it!" André asked.

"It is anything, but threatening. I _highly_ doubt he will shatter another chandelier. He never does the same thing twice. If it something you expect, I can assure you that your chandelier is safe." Handing over the letter, I made my way over to the group of ballerinas. "Oh and monsieurs, really, do clean the instruments. That is something you can give him."

"It is not a 'him,' Miss Daaé! It is a demon! It lurks in the cellars and its face is utterly rancid! I cannot begin to describe how much I loathe the sick son of a bitch, who believes he has every right to- " The anger beneath my bones and through my blood began to boil.

"Do _not_ speak ill of The Opera Ghost." I spoke with a grave undertone. The stage fell silent, all eyes on me. "He is as much of a person as you are, Monsieur André. He lives and breathes. He walks and eats. For god's sake! He writes your operas! He is what brings in your money to run this god forsaken place! If you did not have him, you would have no opera to put on in the first place! If you speak ill of the composer one more time, I will walk out of this house just as La Carlotta has done. Maybe then you will truly understand the importance of his presence. Maybe at the loss of both your leading sopranos, you will comprehend the utter vitality that The Phantom of _HIS OPERA HOUSE _has, because without him telling you what to do, you are truly two men who know not what to do. Two men wandering around a beautiful piece of architecture - _which he made by hand - _aimlessly like stranded cows. I will tell him of your harsh words, making sure he knows where you stand under the very roof he built for you, all of you. And André, he has every right to believe that he owns you and every person who performs and works here. Goodbye, monsieurs. I will come back tomorrow and hopefully, your charm and gentlemanly manners will return just as I will."

I was infuriated. How could anyone speak of another human being like that?! I would rather cut their tongues out, then sing one more note under that roof! Pacing outside the steps of The Opera House, hot, rapid tears fell down my face as I fell to my knees in an overwhelming sense of anger. I never stand up for myself, let alone for somebody else. Was I truly mad? Grasping tightly to the fabric of my dress, the shadow of the Phantom loomed over my lurched body.

"Thank you, Christine... Oh my, Christine..." Without another word, The Phantom brought me into his arms and set me into the carriage, never to leave his arms. "I have never met anyone as kind as you. No one has defended me just as you have. I cannot thank you enough." He whispered against the heated skin of my neck as I leaned against his calming chest. "I would build you one hundred opera houses if it meant I got to hear you sing. You speak of my skills as an architect as if I was some angel, some genius that created an emporium. Yet, all I wanted was a safe haven for my deformed life. I did not expect to find you, but I am so glad that I did. Oh, Christine. My Christine... I love you dearly. I am so in love with you. If only you loved me back... But woe, I will wait centuries for you to even feel a morsel of what I feel towards you... I will treasure everything you give me like the finest jewels in Persia... This unrequited love is worth so much more than you know... Just to have you in my arms... Oh, to share a home with you... It is everything I ever dreamed of, ever since I saw you from behind that mirror..." Reaching my hand up to his mouth, I gently pushed his chin to face me. His eyes were watery as I looked at him with genuine desire. With a breath of pure intoxication, I sat up and leaned in, our faces only inches apart.

"Erik, stop rambling and kiss me."

* * *

**A/N: Almost 600 views! I cannot thank you guys enough! Don't forget to review. I love feedback. **

**Things are moving forward with these two, but alas, happiness is temporary. Fluff is temporary. More drama to come. **

**Much love! **

**- A**


	9. Chapter 8

**Eight**

| Erik |

* * *

One Day Later

Thankfully, the piano was not harmed as the rambunctious movers attempted to navigate the precious instrument through the corridors of our new home. I was tempted to leave them a measly tip for what they called a good job, but my Christine persuaded me otherwise. Sitting at the bench, I attempted for hours to tune the reluctant masterpiece. To my dismay, it still did not sound as I wanted it to. Groaning at my defeat, I stood up and grabbed the violin to ease my nerves. Inhaling calmly, I began to play the most simple of lullabies, "Clair de Lune." Debussy's third movement is truly a delight to delve into, calming the senses. Losing myself into the moonlit movement, my mind soon left reality.

"It sounds wonderful, Erik." Almost dropping the violin, I turned around to see my Christine standing in the doorway. "You know, you should really light more candles or find another _chandelier _to hang in here. It's quite dim. How do ever finish a piece of sheet music with this kind of lighting?" Continuing to play my violin, I stepped in the middle of the room, inviting her to sit on the divan.

"When you live in the darkness all your life, my Christine, your eyes become accustom to low lighting. I find it easier to write music when the lights are dimmed. It calms my mostly-always heightened nerves. Brightly lit rooms only make my pulse rush. I like to write music when my pulse is at ease." She nodded contently as she stretched out on the divan. Noticing that she was barefooted, I paused in my movement. Her feet were neither scarred nor mangled, a sight I had never seen. Blinking rapidly, I brushed the thought off of my shoulder, I began to play once more.

"Isn't it more difficult to play with your gloves on, Erik?" The screech that the strings made against my bow as I took an immediate halt to turn to face her, was quite the annoying sound that I do not wish to ever hear again. Any instrument, stringed or brass, is never meant to make such a vile sound. Flinching at my sudden movements, she sat up as I approached her.

"As I've said many times before, I have gotten used to playing piano and violin with my gloves on, my Christine. It is no different than you making tea with your covered hands. Yes, I do admit it was a challenge in the beginning. Now, it is just another habit. It is better, actually for the pads of my fingers. They are not as bad as they could be, if I were to play without my gloves atop my hands."

_'Oh, how could they be worse! My hands are ghastly. Yellowed and mangled. Distorted at every digit. She would never want to lock hands with me. They would simple repulse her at every angle. They do not look as if they are even human...' _

"I want to see them, Erik. Take your gloves off, please. For me?" Her voice was hushed, like a scared child. Placing my violin on its stand with the bow beside it, I knelt in front of the girl. She blinked languidly, sitting upright to look me in the eyes. "May I?" Closing my eyes, she took her tender hand and pulled off my wig and mask. The cool air hit my lacerated face, sending chills up and down my scarred back. The pads of her clean fingertips ran over the butchered scars, as if they did not even phase her. Leaning forward, she placed a doting kiss on my misshaped cheek. "Your gloves, Erik. They are all that remain..."

"I cannot, for I do not have the bravery you do. You must pull them off gently, my Christine." With an understanding nod, one finger by one finger, my yellowed hands became exposed.

She glanced down, gasping at the terrorizing sight. In that moment I knew, she could never love a demon such as I.

* * *

| Christine |

"I cannot, for I do not have the bravery you do. You must pull them off gently, my Christine." He said with trepidation. I wondered if he replied such words in a way, because he simple did not want to bear the burdened of looking at such hands. With a simple nod, I began taking his leather gloves off by each finger.

Gasping momentarily at the sight before me, I gazed down at the dry, yellowed skin. Surely, he could take better care of his hands! He was a musician for God's sake! Before I could scold him for improper hygienic care, the figure in front of me vanished. I sighed dramatically, knowing that my gasp scared him into the dark. Standing up from the divan, I searched the room for any movement. Glancing at the moving curtain, I made my way to the window.

"Erik? Are you in the corner? Erik, please do not hide from me..." I whispered. "My gasp was not in horror. Your hands could be kept in much better condition, starting with a correct bath." I inquired, speaking in the direction of the dark corner.

"Erik does not want to come out of the darkness. The darkness is where Erik belongs!" He hissed. Rolling my eyes, I bent down at a child's eye level and awaited his return from the dark corner.

"Erik, I am not afraid of neither your hands, nor your face. I find both of them quite beautiful-"

"No! They are not beautiful! You lie through your teeth, woman! My hands are yellow. The veins protrude! My fingernails never grew... And the skin is falling off... They match the hideousness of my face and of my soul..." His voice lowered to a whimper, a broken sob. "Y-You are just like everybody else... Now, leave!" His harsh words seethed through his teeth as I sat pulled on his arm. His knees were drawn to his chest, his hands tucked underneath his shirt like a child. "I said _leave now._"

"No! I will not leave now, just because _you_ have told me to! I am tired of being bossed around by someone who cowers in the darkness, refuses to eat dinner with me, and just wears suits! You are going to listen to me, Erik Destler whether you like it or not." Holding his chin forcing him to face him, I could feel a wave of tears beginning to form in my eyes. "You are beautiful. Your yellowed hands hold no competition to the beauty you hold in your mind and your heart. You create a symphony simply from looking at a goddamn hairpin! Erik, you make me believe in something greater. When my father passed away, I thought my life was completely wasted. The Vicomte's comfort did not help me at all. His what you call, 'handsome demeanor,' did not change the fact that my father was dead. Did you know that I held a knife to my stomach? A pill bottle to my lips? A gun to my head - my father's gun? I believed that there was no greater thing to be held out there for your Christine. I did not want to sing anymore. Yet, he sent me the _Angel of Music_. You have been beaten and torn apart, limb by limb. Your life has been unfair since the day you came out of your mother's womb. She loathed you. She despised you. She shunned you to hell and told you that you spawned from the devil - her own son. You were insulted and tortured. If I could take that away from you, goddamnit I would! I would take your pain away in an instant. Give me your scars. Give me your pain! Give me your mother, oh I would take her if I could. If I could give you a childhood, a warm hug from your mother, a birthday, a Christmas... I would... But all I can give you is the reassurance that there is something greater out there and the reassurance that you_ are_ beautiful. Your scars are what make you beautiful, Erik Destler. Your soul is not opaque. You have made me what I am today. If it weren't for you, I would not be alive, mon ange. Do not sit there and tell me that you are a demon or that you are a monster. Do not tell me that your hands are not beautiful or that your face is mangled and distorted. For it is in your soul where the true magnificence lies... If it were not for your bewitching spells you put me under with your music and your voice, if it were not for your handsome face and insatiable touch... If it were not for your generous spirit and your formidable mind, your genius heart and ravenous thirst for perfection, I would not know how to love someone more than I love you, Erik Destler."

He sat there floored at my monologue of praise, his jaw truly dropped. I wasn't even sure he was breathing. His tears fell, one by one down his cheeks. His hands trembled with shock. I sat there, not knowing if I should continue. Parting my lips to speak once again, his finger flew to mine to stop my fleeting words.

"Shhh..." He cooed, his voice lulling me into yet another entrancement. Scooting forward, placing me in between his legs, he furrowed his eyebrows, creating a noticeable crease in his forehead. His index finger still pressed to my lips, he blinked twice. "Did you say love, Miss Daaé? _Truly_, my ears are deceiving me? For I did not hear the word, 'love,' escape from your lips?..." He rambled on about love for moments on, before my finger was on his lips. There we sat, our index fingers on each others lips, silencing our mouths in unison. Laughing at our positions, I smiled gently at the young man in front of me. Taking his hand into mine, I placed it upon my chest, above my heart.

"My heart, it beats endlessly in synchronization to your symphonies. Your symphonies of music, defeat, life, and love. I want to be there for you forevermore. Though, I do not want you to take this as my hand in marriage... For I am not ready to take that leap... I want you to take my hand in a step forward in our relationship. I do truly love you. I have come to love every aspect of you. Whatever may haunt you at night, shall haunt me too. Your fights are my fights. Your restlessness, is my restlessness. But... Most importantly, my heart is yours now. Take good care of it, Erik. I know I've given it to a trustworthy person." With a grin, he stood up and grabbed me by the waist, twirling me about the room. I couldn't contain the laughter that was coming out of my mouth. Once I reached the floor, our lips met in a feverish kiss. I never wanted to part from his lips. His hands fled to my hips, grasping them tightly, making me feel safe. Moments later, our foreheads were touching in a silent moment of reverie.

"I will not do anything to harm you. I am here to protect you, my Christine. No one will hurt you, ever. You are my light in this dim world. Christine, I love you." Burying his face in the crook of my neck, he snaked his arms around my waist once more. "I would love to stay in this room forever, but I do have a surprise for you."

"A surprise?" Handing him his mask, wig, and gloves, he began readjusting his mere façade once again.

"Yes, Miss Daaé. It is a, 'Welcome Home,' gift. Siré helped me. I am not very acquainted with women's taste in fashion. She seemed to know much more than I did. It is in your new armoire. Wear it to dinner tonight." With a wink, he began to walk out of the musical cavern. "Oh and by the way, your lessons start again tomorrow."

"I thought I was teaching you about courtship? I didn't know we were double-timing the lessons..." I mumbled, hoping he didn't hear me.

"My Christine, how does one hope to learn then! Why, you have the lead in my new opera. You are The Opera Populaire's new leading soprano! You have much still to learn from your Maestro." He shouted, already halfway down the staircase. "And three more minor things, I _will _be joining you for dinner and I will _not _be wearing a suit and we will _not _be eating in the dark."

* * *

**A/N: Another fluffy chapter. I love EC fluff. Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about The Vicomte. hehe. Okay. feedback please? Love you all. **


	10. Chapter 9

**Nine **

| Erik |

* * *

I wanted dinner to be absolute perfection down the position of the fork that lay beside the plate. Siré and I went out four days prior to scope out a flawless location for my romantic dinner. Needless to say, Siré was breathless once she laid eyes on our new home. I begged for Siré to accompany me to the store that women buy formal gowns, as I am inexperienced at buying women's formal wear. She was reluctant to come at first, her excuse being, "I don't dress up often," but I persuaded her finally with a bit of friendly bribery. (She has a few more dresses to spice up her wardrobe.)

The balcony was the set for my romantic endeavor. Candles surrounded the table for two, hoping to romanticize the mood to a T. The centerpiece was a bushel of white roses, her favorite flower. I had heard her mention it to Meg Giry in a brief conversation as I was creeping around the Opera House, making sure _my _theater was being run correctly. Those two imbeciles could not run a room full of air, if their lives depended on it! In any case, white roses cascaded down the railing of the balcony, accented by red roses all around. White wooden chairs, tied with black ribbon were facing outwards, welcoming their guests. My violin stood in the corner, just aching to be played. Prior to my idea of a romantic dinner, I had written a short piece for my Christine. To keep this a surprise, I turned to Siré, hoping this was keeping in tune with the rules of a formal courtship. Finally, the finest wine lay in a bucket of ice, while the menu tonight only had the finest baked salmon and sautéed vegetables. For dessert, I baked my famous three layered cheesecake. Siré made fun of my cheesecake, but I reassured her that it was sure to be an Elysian delight.

Dressed in a white tuxedo, my valet Christophé, straightened out my black bow tie. My black slacks were much too tight, but Christophé insisted that is how today's fashion was going.

"You look handsome, sir. If I were a woman, I would definitely be interested in you." With a wink, he handed me my white mask.

"No, Christophé. I want to be more formal tonight. Hand me my black mask. Let the white one soak in the antibacterial medication I purchased at the pharmacy today." Dawning my black mask, I took a deep breath and headed down the majestic marble staircase. Awaiting at the bottom of the stairs, holding on to the banister was _my angel_.

| Christine |

"Oh, Siré, can't you tell me anything about tonight?" I whined like a child from the wash closet.

"No, Christine. I promised Mr. Destler that I was to remain quiet. Please do not ruin it for him. He worked very hard at preparing the perfect night for you two." Laying out a simple black corset onto the bed, she took out the most gorgeous red gown I had ever seen. It was unlike any gown I had ever laid eyes on before. It was in its simplicity, where the true extravagance laid.

Holding out a towel for me, I quickly dried off, desperately wanting to put the dress on for Erik. "Did he really pick this magnificent dress out for me?" She paused for a moment, wrapping the corset around the my body.

"Yes, Christine. He has a distinguished taste, doesn't he? He saw the dress and just imagined the trail of black lace coming behind you... He loved the thought of the off-the-shoulder sleeve on you, as well. It's a deep red, not too arrogant. The sweetheart neckline suits your petite chest as does the lace appliques. It fits the torso well, bringing out the vivacious curves that your hips hold so beautifully. Then the train of the dress... Oh, Christine! That is what caught is attention! The lace train and bow on the lower back are my favorite parts!" Curiosity got the best of me as she finished tying the corset. Stepping into my undergarments, I grabbed my hair and lifted it above my neck. As she had me step into my dress, the words slipped out of my mouth before I could think of stopping myself.

"Did Erik tell you to say that? Those words sounds like Erik more than anything!" Blushing at my words, she sat me down on the vanity chair and began to style my hair.

"Partly. I do like the bow, Christine. Would you like your hair up or down?"

"Up, please. I would much like to see the lace appliques." Smiling at our reflections in the mirror, she began working her magic fingers, taming my vicious curls into something manageable.

"I would, too."

* * *

One Hour Later

Standing at the bottom of the stairs, I never would have imagined that I would be ready before Erik. More so, I never would have imagined that Erik would be having dinner with me tonight. Soon, quick footsteps behind me were heard on the marble footsteps. Turning around, Erik stood before me on the third step. His white tuxedo and black mask, surprised me greatly. Holding out his arm, he escorted me to the second floor balcony.

"You look... I have no words..." He exhaled with a gaze that spoke for itself. We walked slowly, arm in arm to the balcony, in no means of rushing.

"Thank you. This dress, Erik... I have no words for it. I do enjoy the trick you played, though." With a smirk, the masked man halted in his steps.

"Trick? There are no tricks. I simply am just Erik tonight."

"You told me you are not wearing a suit. Yet, you wear some _form _of a suit. You fashion a tuxedo. A handsome one, at that. I do not mind, though. I'll take your tuxedo over your black suit any day." With a quick kiss to his masked cheek, we began walking once more.

"I hope you know, that my suits are much more comfortable than this tuxedo. I can barely move my legs, these pants are so constricting." Grumbling in his discomfort, I let out an airy exhalation and soon, we arrived at the doubled door balcony.

"Did you have curtains put on the doors?" With a nod, he stepped in front of me.

"Close your eyes, mon amour." He whispered. "Do not take a peek, mon amour." Truly shutting my eyes, I held out my hand for him to guide me through the double doors. The humid Paris air hit my chest as I stepped outside. I wondered if we were to watch the stars, then return to the carriage for a night out on the town. I also wondered if there was another gift waiting for me. Shutting my eyes even more, his presence left me, scaring me more than anything.

"Erik! Where do you go?" I cried out, not liking his vacated presence.

"Shhh... I'm here..." His voice seemed farther away, although it was at the same loudness. "One more moment..." I sighed, not enjoying the darkness my eyelids provided me. "I'm here... Do not worry..." His voice sounded as if it was behind me, below me, miles away. How was he doing this? How could he sound as if he miles away, yet I knew he was only feet away? Sighing loudly, his gloved hands grabbed for mine once again. "Alright, open your eyes."

The sight before me, simply took the breath out of my lungs. White and red roses, snaking around the railing of the balcony, accenting perfectly, making me speechless at the sight. Candles all around me, were anything but a dimly lit room. Wine and a salad on the table await us, his black mask resting on the table. He dawned his wig still, though I had no complaints. His violin rest in the corner, making my skin crawl in anticipation. My arms flew around his neck in gratitude, I could not help but kiss his face all over. His arms moved around my waist, as his lips met mine in a passionate kiss. Releasing me, he led me to the table, pulling the chair out for me.

"Do you like it?" He spoke softly, pushing the chair in for me.

"I am speechless. How did you know white roses were my favorite?" Picking the white rose that was on the napkin, I put it in my hair, hoping he enjoyed it. Earning a smile, he poured the deep red wine into my glass.

"I heard you speak of white roses to Meg, while I roaming around the Opera House." Raising an inspecting eyebrow, his expression grew defensive, only to turn into a soft smile. "I was only eavesdropping a bit..." Raising his glass, he blinked slowly and cleared his throat.

"Mon amour, I cannot begin to revel in your beauty. The way your curls fall right to your lower back, perfectly as you fill my ears with your angelic voice... It fills me with such peace I have so longed to feel all my life. Nothing has made me happier than knowing you. I have lived a life in fear and anger. I have ventured into countries that had me perform things that one cannot simply fathom. Maybe it is, because they are too gruesome for the human eye or because it is too dismal for any good person to think... Yet, I have built an Opera House for you. Every stick and stone that I put into that house... Was for you. Although I did not yet know that at the time, I knew that one day it would fulfill its heavenly purposes; to hold within its marble walls, a perfect angel, mon amour. I simply am here to say merci, for you have truly made me a better man. I promise to love until the end of time. Nothing will part me from you and nothing will harm you. My heart is yours and your heart is forever in my protection. Mon amour, you are my angel of music." With the sound of our glasses clinking together, we began our romantic evening together, one of many I hope to venture with my Erik.

During our main course, there was a burning question in the back of my mind. I did not know if it would be appropriate to ask him. Fidgeting in my seat, he soon noticed that I was restless.

"Quite alright, my Christine?" He paused in his eating, setting his fork down on the plate.

"I... I just have this yearning question in the back of my mind. I don't know if it is appropriate, though... For dinner, that is." He straightening his posture, gesturing for me to continue.

"Anything I have done in my past or plan on doing, is something I will honestly share with you. My only concern is that you will think less of me, because of my past. I have done truly menacing and grave things while I was in Persia. You might be horrified at my past acts for the Shah of Persia. I assure you my Christine, anything you ask, I will full-heartedly answer." Placing my fork down, just as he had done, I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.

"Erik, anything you have done in the past for the Shah was simply for survival. That is what Mr. Khan told me. I do not wish to know what you have done. Your past is _your _past. Whatever directly involves me, is the only thing I truly care about. My question does not delve into your past. Erik, when we first arrived on the balcony and my eyes were closed... Your voice... You sounded as if you were miles away, yet I knew you were only feet away... How... Did you... Manage... That...?" I awkwardly looked down, earning an outcry of laughter from the man across from me.

"Do you mean when I threw my voice from one side of the balcony to the other? I actually was standing beside you. I was picking one of the flowers to set on your napkin." Picking up his fork, he smiled widely and nodded softly.

"I did not know you dabbled in ventriloquy! How exciting! What other skills do you posses that I do not know of, Monsieur?" He pondered for a moment, before leaning forward and pulling another red rose out from behind my ear. "Magic? You are a magician, then?"

"Somewhat. I began as the entertainer for The Shah. He saw my potential and he asked if I held any other talents. I told him of my passion for architecture and inventing. I then proceeded to invent different rooms for him, from the ground up, all by these hands." His voice was uneasy as he glanced down at his gloved hands.

"What kind of rooms?"

"Torture chambers, my Christine. I invented the chamber of mirrors. The box of daggers. Multiple trapdoors were originated by my mind. How do you suppose I knew every inch of The Opera House? I created the flood gates. The mirror that rested in your dressing room, was one of my first inventions." I nodded slowly, not dwelling on his past too much. Excitedly, I leaned forward and grabbed his hand in mine.

"I have a proposition for you, Erik." He tilted his head, curious at my sudden burst of jitters.

"What is it, mon amour?" Scanning the space that the mansion sat on top of, I smiled widely.

"I want you to build an underground space. Just like the one under The Opera House, Erik. Maybe secret passageways, too? I do not want the memory of the secrets of The Opera House to be severed completely, Erik. What do you say? Does it sound completely mad of me?" With a truncated laugh, he rose to his feet and walked gracefully towards his violin. Resting it below his chin, he took a deep breath and began an unfamiliar symphony.

"I call this one, 'Mon Amour, My Christine.' I wrote it three days ago. It is featured in _La Belle. _I hope you enjoy it. I know I will when your voice breathes life into the non-verbal symphony." Turning my chair to face Erik, he took his gloves off, handing them to me to hold. With a determined expression, he finally began.

I sat there, my mouth agape at the talent that effortlessly flowed out of his fingers as they worked diligently at the strings of the violin. The arm that held the bow moved fastidiously at strings as the melody permeated the humid air, filling my heart with an elation I have not felt since my father was alive. Each note, each bar, was so carefully calculated by the intricate mind of a living and breathing virtuoso. No sheet music was needed, no orchestra was required to take the air straight out of my lungs. There he stood, coexisting with the music he created not for himself, but for me. Oh, how could I not have loved him before? His heart was pouring into the soul of the measures he expressed through the strings and bow of his most prized instrument. I had yet to think that his piano was his most enshrined instrument, but now I could tell that his violin was his true love. I felt empty when the music stopped, my eyes fluttering open at the sudden vacated silence. Erik was kneeling in front of me, for how long, I do not know. His hands were on my forearms, his thumbs tracing the skin in delicate circles.

"Mon amour, you look like you have been drugged. I assure you, I have not put anything hazardous in the food or wine!" Pulling my chin up with his finger, I blinked to regain my vision.

"Oh, Erik... That song... Was so... I... I lost myself in your music. I do not want to ruin it with adding a voice to it." He shook his head, the pad of his thumb outlining the form of my lips.

"You could ruin absolutely nothing, mon amour. That song was created for your voice. I just simply did not sing the words tonight. Only the instrument played the song, my Christine. Come, we are to eat our dessert elsewhere." Rising to his feet, he grabbed his mask and gloves. Once readjusted, he held out his arm for me to hook onto like a gentleman would only do.

"Why aren't we eating out here? It's quite the lovely evening." Stepping inside, we made our way through the quiet house.

"You spoke of secret passageways. I cannot bring The Vicomte here through the front door, my Christine. You ask for trapdoors and secret passageways as if I would be offended for your requests!" Placing a chaste kiss on my cheek, he led me down to the library.

"Oh! Let me guess! You pull one of the books and the bookshelf moves?" He shook his head, with a fake disappointment.

"My Christine, I never do the same thing twice!" He stood in the middle of the room, gesturing for me to join him.

"You almost broke two chandeliers and you send a lot of letters to André and Firmin." With an arrogant scoff, he pointed up to the ceiling. "Why is that ceiling getting closer to us!? ERIK! WE ARE GOING TO GET CRUSHED!" Holding on to his arm tighter than I have ever held onto anything in my life, I shut my eyes, praying for my body not to get crushed.

"My dear Christine! Why do you shut your eyes? It is just an illusion. We are not going to get crushed. We are simply moving down to the underground passageway you desired. There are many other ways into this new underground lair. I chose this one, solely because I wanted to see your facial expression." Slapping him on the shoulder, his infectious laughter filled the stone cold corridor.

"It was an elevator? You built an elevator in our house?" Before we headed down the long corridor, he held out his hand and smiled gently, only reassuring me that this was one of many shenanigans to come.

"Mon amour, I built many things in our new home. An elevator, is the least of your problems."

* * *

**A/N: This was one of my favorite chapters. No more fluff for awhile. though. **

**Feedback is appreciated. :) **

**Much love. **


	11. Chapter 10

**Ten **

A Week Later

* * *

Erik was restless, which automatically made me restless. He rapidly paced the floor of the sitting room, his arms behind his back. Resting upon the divan, I distracted myself with a book. His antsy pacing made me beyond nervous. Finally. slamming my book down onto the end table, I turned to face the concentrated man.

"Erik, must you pace so... much?" His body jerked towards mine as he raised his hand in protest, beginning to speak.

"Mon amour, do you know what today is?" Shaking my head, he was quick to kneel in front of me. Grabbing my hands, his mask gave awa no sign of worry or fright. "It is the eve of your Vicomte's escape." His words caught my attention as I sat up to meet his gaze.

"Erik, have you gotten it all planned out, then?" He nodded slowly, taking a slip of paper out of his pocket. "What is that?" Unfolding the paper, there was a map drawn out very meticulously. "Is that a treasure map?"

"No, mon amour. These are your instructions, once night falls. I will explain it to you, now. Once night falls, I will be gone for the next forty eight hours. You are to do three things for me, okay? I need you to do them perfectly or The Vicomte will not have a successful escape. Do you understand me, Christine Daaé?" His tone was gravelly as he brought me to the sitting table. Laying out the folded piece of paper onto the table, he took out the pen from his pocket and began drawing circles. "You will start here. Do you remember how to get to the library?" I nodded attentively, trying to remember the library.

"I am going to explain to you how the library functions, mon amour. he way to activate the elevator is when you arrive at the bottom of the staircase, push the button at the top of the banister. You will then have fifteen seconds to get into the center of the room, before the elevator begins to move. Upon reaching the stone wall corridor, you are to press the one button behind you to send the elevator back up to the library. Secondly, as you are proceeding through the corridor, do you remember the three tunnels I showed you? One has an iron gate, the next one has water, and the other one has a cement path. I need you to take the boat to the new lair and wait for me there. Do you mind being there for forty eight hours?"

"Erik, I don't know if I could be there alone for two days... What will you be doing for that requires you to be gone for _two days_?"

"Do you want me to rescue you your Vicomte or not?" His loud voice echoed through the walls of the sitting room, shaking me down to my bones. Startled by his uproar, I closed my eyes in fear of his next actions. "I'm sorry, mon amour. This plan takes two days. I need you to be preparing the lair. That is where The Vicomte will be staying for three weeks. Thirdly, I need you to make sure the gate is locked on both ends. That means you need to get into the lair from the outside. It is more difficult a task, then it sounds. You will need César to ride into town. From The Opera House, you will go into the old lair-"

"But the flood washed away everything!"

"Mon amour, it did not wash away the pathways. The water is drained, but the pathways are still there. Go into your dressing room and go into the lair that way."

"The mirror only opens one way, though. It only opens from inside the lair, Erik. What, do you want me to smash it? That seems awfully loud and to tell you the truth, I'm sure I'd attract some unwanted attention." He let out an aggravated sigh and closed his fists in frustration.

"My Christine... Please, listen to me... Since I have been down there, I have made sure that the mirror opens from inside your dressing room. There is a switch lock from on top of the mirror. You just have to flick the switch and it will click. Once you hear the click, you push the mirror open and go into the lair. I cannot stress this enough, mon amour, you _must_ make sure you lock the mirror once inside the stone corridor. If you do not, then anyone who enters your dressing room will have access to the lair and to you. Once in the lair, take the cement path and there I will leave César. Attached to my horse, there will be a saddlebag. Whatever you do, do not lose that bag. Those are very important documents. In that saddlebag, will be The Vicomte's warden paperwork. The original paperwork, mon amour. You are to take the cement path with César to the new house. It will be a longer journey, since you will only have one horse. Rest assured, César will get you there efficiently. Take the back path and Siré will take the horse to the stables. Once you make it down to the new lair through the elevator, you are to burn the documents and throw it into the lake."

"There is a lake? Beneath our home?" I smiled widely at the picture being painted in my head, only to be faced with a serious man.

"Mon amour, I will do everything in my power to make sure you do not get caught. Your path from The Opera House to our home is vital. Those documents are crucial to his escape being successful. Do you comprehend my words, Miss Daaé?" Nodding understandingly, he stood to his feet, adjusting his black vest.

"Let me get this straight... I am to go to The Opera House and into my dressing room, open the mirror, double check to make sure it is locked, take the path, that will then lead me to César?" _  
_

"Precisely. Go on, I need to it to be affirmed that you are aware of the plan." Taking a deep breath, I continued in my confusion.

"The journey from The Opera House to our home underground - by horse - is almost a full day! Erik, how do you expect me to know where I am going while I am underground? Did you make a sure path from point A to point B?"

"Of course, my Christine. The cement path in the lair will lead you straight behind our home. Yes, it is a day's journey, but I need you to help me. If you do not secure those documents by burning them, The Vicomte will die. You will die. Honestly, I do not care about The Vicomte. All I care about is _you _and your safety. I do not like the idea of sending you on a day's journey by yourself. Mon amour, I cannot lose you. I am going to do everything I can to get The Vicomte out of the ward, but your safety always come first. If I fear that something has gone wrong, rest assured, The Vicomte will no longer be any of my concern. I cannot lose you, I will not." Placing a feathery kiss on his masked cheek, I leaned back in my chair and continued.

"After I arrive from my journey, Siré will take César to the stables. I am to go to the library. The button is on top of the banister. I have fifteen seconds to get to the center of the room before the elevator begins to move. Once in the corridor of the lair, the button behind me sends the elevator back up to the library. There are three paths, just like the old lair. One of water, one of cement, and one that leads to an iron gate. I am to lock it on both sides. Erik, you have only told me how to lock it on one side. I don't know how to get on the other side of the iron gate." His head perked up at the flaw in his plan. Soon, he was by my side once again.

"I am truly sorry. I will lock the other side of the gate when I leave for The Vicomte. Do not worry, mon amour. Once you have locked the iron gate, walk back and take the boat into the lair. You will find it quite suitable for twenty four some hours. It has a bedroom, a bathroom, and a tiny kitchen. I will come back with The Vicomte by morning." Pressing a light kiss to my temple, he rose to his feet once more and held out his hand. "Shall I take you up to our bedroom then? You have a busy day tomorrow, my Christine. You need your sleep." Scooping up my body in a bridal style way, he made his way up the marble staircase and into our shared bedroom. "I will miss you the next two days." Placing me on the bed, he took a chair and brought it to the bedside.

"Tell me what your plan is, Monsieur Destler. What does The Great Phantom have up his sleeve?" With an elongated exhale, he leaned back in his chair and blinked slowly.

"There is a trap door in his confinement unit. It is a simple task. It is getting him to our home that is the difficult part." Pressing a kiss to my forehead, he stood up and went to the door. "I will send in Siré to help you prepare for bed. Goodnight, mon amour. I promise that we will meet again in two days." Before he closed the bedroom, I uttered the words that I hoped he would return, not knowing if we would meet again in the next forty eight hours.

"Erik, wait." Turning around, he leaned against the door frame.

"Yes, my Christine?"

"I love you."

* * *

| Erik |

Pressing the button to send the elevator back up to the library, I sauntered down to the iron gate. Unlocking it and making sure it was locked from the outside, I met with my horse in the driveway of my home. Christophé awaited me with my horse.

"Thank you Christophé." Giving him one thousand francs, I mounted my horse and began to ride to ward. I knew the journey was going to be long, but I knew that rescuing The Vicomte would make my Christine happier than anything. Her happiness meant everything to me. I hope that bringing The Vicomte to our home won't rekindle any past feelings.

* * *

Sunrise

The ward was peculiarly silent. Roaming in the shadows of the dimly lit confinement center, I made my way to The Vicomte's unit. Knocking five times, movement was soon heard on the other side of the metal door, which was in fact bolted on both sides. Not a problem for me, but it was more work for me to do than I would like. As I approached the door, five knocks were heard on the opposite side of the door.

"Vicomte de Chagny?" I whispered, making sure my body was completey in the shadows.

"Erik. I was wary as to if you were actually going to come. I was mistaken. You are a man of your word." His deep voice, bellowed from the innards of incarceration unit he was held in at the moment.

"I am not doing this to win your favor, Vicomte. This is for my Christine's happiness, only. Do you understand me?" Silence. Nodding in agreement with his silence, I stepped out in front of the metal door. "Alright, Vicomte. Open the door."

"I can't, there is a padlock on the door."

"Monsieur le Vicomte, I assure you, no door is locked when I am around. Now open the door, before the time runs out and this plan becomes a ruined attempt at saving your life." Soon, the door swung open and a skinny man stood before me. His hair had been shaved off and his limbs looked frail. His white on white clothing would be spotted in the dark. Sighing at the next thought that entered my mind, I took my cloak off and handed it to The Vicomte. "Put this on, Monsieur. I cannot risk you being seen in the dark. Now, step aside. I have work to do with little time to spare." Moving aside, I bent over and I moved the bed against the wall. "It is a hollow floor. I made it myself, long ago. I was under another name, of course." Peeling off the first layer of fake cement, a door hid beneath the floor. "After you, Vicomte."

"How did you know there was a door?" His curiosity befuddled him as he stared down the door.

"Once, there was a man who built buildings from the ground up for The Shah of Persia. His work did not center around Persia, for it reached to far off countries like America and Africa. His mastery included magic, ventriloquy, torture, architecture... but his true talent lay in music. The Shah did not accept his musical skills. Something horrid happened and the architect was ordered to be executed. He was shown the side of true kindest when the Daroga, Nadir Khan, rescued him from perdition. I am showing you this one act of kindness as did Daroga show to me." Haunting memories of my past fled to my mind as I began to hear footsteps from above. "Hurry, Vicomte. When you reach the end of the path, There will be a horse waiting for you. I will discuss the further plans. Do not go on until I arrive. I might be a little late depending on how much I must clean up... rather, stage here. Go, Vicomte! Before the guard returns!" The Vicomte paused, opening the secret door. Stepping down into the hole and onto the ladder, he looked towards me with eyes of desperation.

"Truly, I owe you my life."

"Yes, yes. Now, go!" Shutting the door and locking it, I began staging the perfect getaway. Putting the floor and bed back in its place, I escaped the room and waited in the shadow for the guard to take a peek in the empty room. With my Punjab lasso at the ready, I silently approached the clueless guard.

"What the-"

* * *

Seven Hours Later

The Vicomte rode next to me as we ventured down the cobblestone path beneath the ground. Silently, the hooves of the horses clamored against the stones, echoing off the walls. Hopefully we were safe until we arrived to my home. I anxiously sat atop my horse, wondering about my Christine. I did not yet know if she fulfilled her duties. Even if she did not, I would not care. I just want to feel her lips against mine, her finger tips against my deformed skull. Thoughts of my Christine clouded my mind as we continued down the long path, only knowing that we had many more hours until we reached the iron gate.

"Where are we going, monsieur?" The Vicomte's voice rang out, distracting me from my thoughts.

"We are on the path to the iron gate. Once you arrive to the iron gate, you are going to take two paths. First, a cement one, such as this. The second, a boat to the lair. My Christine shall be there to assist you." His head turned to face me, perplexity overtaking him.

"Just me? Why are you not accompanying me?"

"I must finish some business some things involving your imminent escape. I will be there at the end of tomorrow." His eyebrows moved in confusion, shrugging at my statement.

"Is Christine okay?"

"That I do not know, Monsieur le Vicomte. I wish deeply for her safety. Only we can hope for her safety, now."

About three hour passed before I halted the horse in its path. The Vicomte turned towards me and halted his horse in sync with mine.

"I must part now. I will hope to see you back at my new home. Tell my Christine that I love her." Whispering something in César's ear, the horse took off in the other direction, heading off to The Opera House. "Monsieur le Vicomte, I have one request for you."

"Yes, of course. I owe you my life, Erik." With a regretful sigh, I looked towards the man and gave him a sealed letter.

"Give this to my Christine when you see her. I will return by the end of tomorrow. If I do not, do not be afraid. Tell her that I am alright. Goodbye, Monsieur le Vicomte. Until tomorrow." With that, I ran off in the opposite direction and into the night, hoping that this plan would follow through. Praying for the first time in my life that my Christine, my angel, is what The Vicomte says is, "Okay."

* * *

| Christine |

I made sure that the mirror was locked on both sides as I made my way down the much-too-familiar pathway. It was frightening without Erik leading me down the cobblestone staircase. Soon, the whinny of a horse made my pulse at ease. César appeared, just as Erik said he would. Running to the black stallion, I gave the horse a hug, for my own reassurance. Opening the saddlebag, a strange smell was emitted from the bag. Surely, it was not the smell of leather. It was gaseous and constricting my throat! Erik! Oh, what have I done! My eyelids felt as if ten thousand tons of bricks were being weighted down as the corridor's temperature began to rise. Copious amounts of sweat began to fall from my head as I clung on to César's neck, not wishing to fall down the middle of the vast emptiness, to my death. I knew his horse was strong, I could feel it as the horse lifted his neck, trying to get me to lay over him. With the last of my strength - for I feared that the gas that was emitted from the bag was numbing my limbs - I threw my body over the horses saddled and _hoped_ that he knew his way home.


	12. Chapter 11

**Eleven**

| Erik |

* * *

I returned to the lair at dusk of the next day, as promised. The Vicomte was resting in the bedroom. I suspected nothing more and nothing less. His body lay limp on the bed that was to be occupied by my Christine. Swallowed by the blankets, I returned to my thoughts as I closed the door to The Vicomte's room. Walking around, I looked for my Christine. Silence. I searched endlessly within each nook and cranny of this new lair for my Christine. She was nowhere to be found. Taking the lantern that hung above the sink, I made my way around the new lair. Three bedrooms adorned this new lair. A master bedroom and two guest bedrooms, the latter two were much smaller. Not allowing those rambunctious movers to touch my organ, it was the only instrument I moved from the old lair to the new one. None of the rooms were graced with my Christine's presence. My pulse began to race as the vacancy of my Christine settle in my mind. Losing my patience, I decided to go to the one man who knew her better than anyone else.

"Monsieur le Vicomte, awaken this instant!" Slapping his cheek, he rolled over onto his back with a groan.

"I wish to rest, Erik..." He replied, only for the anger in my blood to rise.

"And I wish for pigs to fly, now awaken this instant or I shall throw you into the lake!" Sitting up, he ran a tired hand through his hair.

"What is the problem? Why are you in such a hurry?" Rubbing his eyes, I grabbed him by the collar.

"Have you seen my Christine down here or have you been to tired to open your eyes, Monsieur le Vicomte?" Seething through my teeth, my fury arose to my cheeks and fingertips.

"No, I have not yet seen her. I thought she was with you." Our eyes widened in unison as I threw his body down back onto the bed. Grabbing my cloak off the organ, I began my hurried ascension to my home. "Wait! Let me come with you, Erik!"

"No, you must remain here in the lair. First, to recuperate to full health. Second and most important Monsieur le Vicomte, if she is to return as I instructed her to, you are to remain here to welcome her and wait for my return. Do you understand me, Vicomte?" He nodded quickly, stepping backwards from my intense gaze.

"I-I understand. I will stay here and wait for her return." Nodding in understanding, I made my way to the library, hoping and praying that my Christine await for me somewhere in this giant abyss we now call our home.

"Siré! Siré! Come at once!" I screamed as I ran through the foyer of the grand house. Soon, the shorter girl was at my feet.

"Yes, sir?" Grabbing her shoulders lightly, my breathing was rapid and my eyes were widened.

"Have you seen Christine? I cannot find her! She was supposed to be home yesterday! She has not yet arrived. Have you any word from my Christine? Please tell me you have heard from her... A letter... Anything..." Trailing off into a nonsensical gibberish, the blonde girl sighed sadly, pressing her hand against my unmasked cheek.

"Monsieur Destler, I have not heard from Miss Daaé. I will make sure that if any word comes in regarding Christine, it will be automatically relayed to you, Monsieur. I am so sorry..." Her gaze averted towards the floor as I released my grip on her. "Monsieur... Something most strange has happened, though." She piped up as my attention was focused on her once more.

"What is it, Siré? You must tell me everything you know." Taking a long breath, she finally exhaled.

"Although Miss Daaé has not returned, your horse... has." She shrugged her shoulders, pointing her skinny index finger towards the stables.

"I do not have time for your childish games!" Storming away from the girl, her small hand pulled my arm back, jerking my body causing me to stumble back.

"Monsieur Destler, I have never lied to you. In my almost two years of working for you, I have never once lied to you. I keep out of your personal life and I protect your home as it if were my own. Your beloved Stallion, César returned early this morning. His saddlebag was empty. He was anxious and kept bucking his legs. He injured one of the stable boys, Monsieur. I have never seen your horse misbehave so much. It was if he was under some sort of spell. If you do not believe me, go to the stables and see it with your own eyes. Monsieur Destler, I do not deceive you. You can trust me." Squeezing my hand with a reassuring smile, I pressed a kiss against her cold cheek.

"Forgive me. I am so worried about my Christine. I am so sorry for shouting at you, Siré. Truly, I can call you a good friend, But for now, I am going to go look for my Christine. Do not forget about The Vicomte in the lair, Siré. You are the only one who knows how to get down there. Check on him every so often. I will be back. Until I return, you and Christophé are in charge of the staff. Keep my home clean and do not answer the door for anyone." With haste, I fled to the stables to saddle a horse and search for my Christine.

The black Stallion stood in front of me, not holding still. Whinnying at the sight of its master, the other horses did not pay any attention at my arrival. Making my way towards my trusted steed, I entered his stall with my Punjab Lasso in tow.

"Oh, César... How did we get to such a dismal place? My Christine is missing and it is all my fault. I should have never let her go out by herself... She would be resting peacefully in my arms if it weren't for me!" Cursing my foolish decisions, I leaned to retrieve its bridle. The scent that overtook the horse was unusual. Taking another whiff of my horse's mane, my eyes widened as my bones froze beneath my raised skin. "Poison..." Quickly putting the bridle on my horse, I mounted César and began my journey into the dark of the night. "Oh, Christine... I am so sorry I have failed you..."

* * *

| Christine |

As my heavy eyelids opened, I could see absolutely nothing. It was pitch black no matter where I looked. Were my eyes even open? My wrists and ankles were bound by rope. I was no longer in a dress, but I was not fully bare either. On both sides of my body, a wall of some sort prevented me from rolling around. Claustrophobia began to settle as the temperature began to rise. Hotter and hotter, this confined space got the longer I laid there, tossing and turning. I tried so quickly to think of any possibly escape routes, but the darkness overtook any plans I might have had. My breathing rate increased as I closed my eyes once more. Pulse rushing and sweat forming at my hair line, I could not help but cry out for help.

"SOMEBODY HELP ME, PLEASE! I'M TRAPPED! IS ANYONE THERE? ERIK! YOU HAVE TO COME HELP ME! ERIK, PLEASE! COME HELP ME!" To my terminal dismay, there was no reply. Minutes, maybe hours passed by of endless screaming before my voice gave out in surrender. Thoughts of The Vicomte, The Girys and The Opera House filled my mind as I laid there, helplessly to my impending doom. "Erik... Please... I know you are out there... Angel..." My mouth was unbearably dry, my lips chapped to an excruciating sensation. Soon, my body became numb from laying in the same position for what seemed like days on end. My eyelids felt weighted down by tons of bricks. I just wish I was at home with Erik. Was he kidnapped too? Oh, what if he was kidnapped, because of me? Did I forget to lock the mirror on the other side? What if he was dead, because of me? Oh, what have I done!

"Yes... Look what you have done." The disguised voice spoke loudly, alarming me out of my daze. Did I speak those thoughts out loud? At this point, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. "Christine Daaé, you have quite the endurance. Brava, mademoiselle." I could not put a face to the voice. Oh, why were they torturing me? "You are a very difficult person to find in the city of Paris, especially since Monsieur Destler has taken you under his wing. I have been looking for him for over ten years. Once I heard news that he has resurfaced as a successful composer, it led me to his most prized work of art. That would be you, if you did not catch that." Their voice was not local, they were foreign. "I suppose you want me to turn the lights on, Miss Daaé. Maybe you would like it if I turned the heat down as well, Christine? Would you like to see where you are? You have been here a little over twenty-four hours. I am surprised that your Erik has not come barreling through the door to rescue you yet. Surely, he is on his way. Don't worry, I have a room for him, too." Remaining silent, I listened to the mystery person's speech, my wrists and ankles aching to be released. "I asked you a question. Would you like the lights on or the temperature down, Miss Daaé? Make your choice. You can only have one. If you choose to have the lights on, the temperature will keep on rising and you will see something of gruesome measures. Keep the lights off, the temperature will remain at eight five degrees Fahrenheit. Although, there is no telling what will be released into the dark room. I cannot see into the room and neither can you. What do you choose?"

I paused for a moment, trying to weigh the two choices that were laid out before me.

"Turn the lights on, please. I do not wish for the temperature to raise anymore than it is already raised." Soon, a blinding white light was turned on and to my revelation, I was not laying down. I was in some sort of glass box, standing up right. The room was padded and in front of me was a black screen. I imagine my captor was behind it. Clearly, my wrists and ankles were bound by a scratchy rope. I was down to my chemise. I am just thankful that I was not naked.

"Do you wish to see your reflection before I show you the main course, Miss Daaé?" I nodded, closing my eyes in anticipation. The black screen in front of me slowly turned into a mirror. Bruises of black and purple appeared up and down my legs, my hair pulled back to display the knife marks on my neck. Gasping at the horrible sight, I bit my cheek to keep from screaming. "I told you mademoiselle, it is not a pretty sight. Although, I may fancy a taste during the main course. Quite ready?" Nodding slowly, the mirror in front of me turned transparent, appalling me beyond belief.

Erik rested on his knees, his mask nowhere to be found. His hands were fully exposed, while his head bled and his scarred body on display. His shoulders fell lightly, I could almost affirm that he was barely breathing. Tied to a pole, his head hung lowly, his eyes were closed and had no reason to be opened. His face was bruised, his body battered. I had never seen his body without a suit on and now I know why he hid underground for so long. His back and chest was covered in scars, large and small. Reddened blotches of raised skin spread around his body as he knelt down in shame. I didn't know if he knew I was in the next room. I wanted so badly to see him, hold him in my arms. He looked so weak.

"I found him looking for you. It was quite cute, actually. Enough with the flirtatious eyes, though. Would you care to say a few words to your lover before I drop him to his death, Christine?" Tears flowed down my cheeks as I tried to form words. Who was this horrid person! What did they want with us!

"Please, do not hurt him! Do not kill him!" I begged over and over again, only to earn a laugh from my captor.

"Your boyfriend, is an evil man. He has killed ruthlessly and built the very room you are held in, Christine. To raise the heat in a room, was his invention. Death by dehydration, my dear. Now, speak to him. For he only has so long to live."

My breathing was erratic, my thoughts racing against each other.

"Erik! Erik, can you hear me?! Angel! Please, say something..."

"C-Christine..." His head arose, looking everywhere in the room for my voice. "Christine, oh my Christine! Do not worry, I am here... I will keep you safe... I am sorry that I made you make the journey alone... I am a foolish man..."

"Erik, we only have so long, please just listen to me! I love you, okay? Whatever happens next, just know that I love you. I always have and I always will. Do not worry, okay? We will get out of here, I promise... I promise, Erik..." His eyes darted about the room, furiously trying to look for my face, my voice, a way out of that room.

"Do not speak like we are going to die, mon amour. We are going to live, I promise you. Do you trust me?"

"Of course, I do. Erik, we are trapped though. We are bound and trapped." A soft smile spread across his face as his head rose wit more confidence.

"Yes, we are bound as one. Trust me, mon amour-" Before he could finish his sentence, the floor of his dungeon opened and his body disappeared into the floor. The lights turned off once again and I was surrounded by my demons.

"Miss Daaé, do not trust so easily. He lost his wings long ago and angels do not get their wings back."


	13. Chapter 12

**Twelve **

How many hours have passed? Probably days by now. The temperature has significantly risen. With Erik not in the adjacent room, my thoughts have been racing to find peace. Nothing has been giving me peace. I could not imagine his death. I was too weak to imagine anything. Dehydrated and starved, my body ached to be set free from my bounds. I figured I was still in the glass box, only to my dismay my captor in formed me that it was made of something much thicker than glass. I have forgotten the name. It doesn't matter anyway. Erik is gone from my side. My heading was pounding and my lips were red with dried blood. My hair was uncomfortably sticking to my neck, wet with sweat and blood. I couldn't tell the difference. Erik's voice echoed in the back of my head as I held by a thin thread to stay alive. My body fought my mind in a battle to surrender. I was not equipped to handle torture. My thoughts were interrupted by my captor's voice on the loudspeaker, only it wasn't their voice...it was... Erik's!

"_Brava... Brava... Bravissima..._" I could barely keep my head up long enough before his voice permeated the heated room once more. "_Christine..." _Was my mind becoming truly delusional? I saw his body be plummeted to its death, right in front of me. It had to be one of my captor's cruel tricks.

"No...No..." I muttered, unable to force my weak body to form any other word.

"_Wandering child, have you forgotten your angel?_" His voice spoke once more, become more harsh. His voice grew in loudness, my mind beating against me. I detested the thought of the captor in actuality being my Erik. Shaking my head from side to side, I remained silent and listened intently. _"Christine... Close your eyes... Think of me..." _The airy voice sang out, circling my head as I began to drift off into a deep slumber once again. My eyelids ached. Oh even something so small hurt me! _"Your Angel will save you... Just think of me..." _No longer able to fight my defeat, I acquiesced, succumbing to the all too recognizable darkness.

* * *

Two Weeks Later

I awoke in an unfamiliar setting. The walls were a beige color, white roses in a vase on the bedside table. My body felt heavy as I tried to place a location to my mind. The room was dim, clean. Glancing down, my wrists had scars on them as if they were bound. Yellowed bruises were scattered around my body as I was bore down to a silk gown and a shawl. My hair was up in a loose bun, a black ribbon tying it at the top. Was I home? I couldn't remember the last few days. It was a blur. It was just darkness, complete and total darkness. Nothing was making sense in my mind. I couldn't remember anything that had to do with everything. Was something wrong with me? Maybe I am just tired. Blinking slowly, my thoughts were distracted by a soft knock at the door.

"Miss Daaé?" My heart began to pound at the well-known voice at the door. Opening the door, the masked man entered slowly, holding a single white rose. His eyes watered as he approached the bedside, placing the rose on the bedside. "Fifteen." He spoke gently, moving a fallen piece of hair back behind my ear. Smiling delicately, he brought a chair up next to the bed.

"Fifteen?" My voice was coarse, dry in my throat.

"I have brought you a white rose for every day you have been asleep. This is the fifteenth day. Oh Christine, my Christine... It is so good to see your eyes once more... I have been a horrible mess without you..." Speechless at his romantic endeavors, his non-gloved hands took mine, stroking the palms in silence. "How are you feeling, my Chrstine?" I sat, bewildered at his face. I felt as if I should respond to his question, he has been so kind.

"I am tired. My body hurts immensely and I feel as though I have been asleep for hundreds of years." He smiled softly, pausing in his motions. In confusion, he tilted his head once again.

"Is something wrong, my Christine? Are your pillows uncomfortable? Would you be more comfortable in the sitting room?" I shook my head, glancing again at the flowers to the left of me. They were so beautiful. Grabbing the single rose, I examined each petal, grazing its soft petals between my fingertips. Giggling at their sensation, I placed the rose in my lap and looked back at the mask man.

"No, this is fine. I do have a question, though." Licking my lips, he nodded in gesture for continuance. Taking a deep breath, I sat up in pain. Groaning at the aching pain in my back and legs, I face the man with a grave expression.

"Ask please, my Christine. I will answer any question you propose." Nodding, I smiled and began.

"Who are exactly are you? I do not know where I am, but apparently you know who I am. You have been bringing me flowers every day. I assume we are... lovers? Engaged to be married, at least? We share this bed, this home, a life? I cannot seem to remember anything. It is most terrible! Please, help me remember! All I can recall is my name and nothing else... Am I dead? Is this a dream? Are you a ghost? Oh, God..." My stomach began to churn and soon, I regurgitated nothing, but bile onto the floor. The man stood up, without words. Silently, he cleaned me up and got me back into bed. Straightening his vest, he shut his eyes and took a deep breath.

"I will be back within the hour, Miss Daaé. Sleep, now. You need the sleep."

* * *

| Erik |

"How can she possibly not remember _anything?!" _I shouted at Daroga, my body fuming with anger, confusion, and mostly hypersensitivity. Daroga paced the sitting room, his hand at his temples. "I do not understand! Afsar could not have erased her memory, he is not that talented!" Slamming my fists onto the wooden table, I close my eyes in frustration.

"Erik, there is no point in getting angry. Just try to think of Christine and how she feels in this situation. She is the most important person to think of in this situation. What did she look like when you found her in the box?" I shrugged my shoulders, throwing my hands up in surrender.

"I do not know! I do not remember! You saw her, cannot you remember yourself?" I seethed through my teeth.

"I saw her three days after, Erik. I did not get your letter until I returned from London. You must remember. Did she have any contusions on her head or serious blood loss near her head?" I fervently shook my head, taking a seat on the divan. Putting my head in my hands, I sighed heavily.

"She... She was unconscious when I found her. Her wrists and ankles were bound. She had some broken ribs and she was severely dehydrated. Her lips were bleeding and she had bruises all over her body. My Christine... She was delusional from being inside that box... From the heat and starvation..." I trailed off and soon, Nadir's face was inches from mine.

"What did you say was in your horses mane?"

"Some sort of poison, I do not know what kind." Nadir stood up and clapped, giddier than ever.

"If it is what I suspect, then her amnesia is only temporary. She will recover from her memory loss. She has been hypnotized, more severely than hypnosis, though." I nodded slowly, rising to meet Nadir's hopeful gaze.

"What if she does not come out of it though? What if she forgets me forever, Nadir?" Nadir stopped in his tracks, turning slowly to face me. Placing his hand on my shoulder, he returned to me a reassuring a smile.

"Do not forget, Erik, she is _your _Christine. She cannot ever forget you, no matter how severe the hypnosis." Parting my lips to rebuttal his statement, we were interrupted by a quiet voice.

"Hypnosis?" In unison, our heads jerked towards the doorway. My Christine leaned against it, wrapped in her shawl.

"Oh, Christine... My Christine, you should not be standing up and walking around." Running over to her, I picked up the tiny girl and carried her over to the divan. "Daroga, hand me that blanket over there." She smiled softly, uneasy to the new environment she has been forced into, only by my mistakes. "My Christine, what are you doing out of bed?"

"I couldn't sleep. I have many questions on my mind. They are keeping restless." Nadir sat in the chair across from us as I sat beside her on the divan. Nodding slowly, I gestured for her to continue. "Are we engaged? Courting? I do not remember you at all, but something within me is telling me to trust you." Her eyes were wide, bright with hope. I took a hard swallow, averting my gaze from Nadir and back to Christine. Nadir knew something was wrong when he read the expression on my face. He ran to stop me, but my hand flew up to stop him. With a deep breath, I smiled softly and exhaled with a long finish.

"We are engaged to be married, my Christine. I have not given you your ring yet, because you have been sick. You told me that you did not want to get it dirty. Shall I give it to you tomorrow?" She nodded excitedly, while Nadir put his face in his hands, shaking his head in disappointment. "What are your other questions, my Christine?"

"What is your name?" She laughed at the stupidity of the question, but realized the vitality of it.

"I am Erik, Erik Destler. This is my good friend Nadir Khan." Nadir held out his hand as Christine politely shook it with grace.

"How did we meet?" I sat up, smiling at her questions.

"We met long ago, when you were a child. I was your vocal teacher. Finally, at the new year we decided to get engaged." She pondered a moment, raising her hand. "Yes?"

"Why are we having such a long engagement? I do wish to be married soon. It seems like we truly love each other."

_'Oh yes, my Christine, I do truly love you... More than you will ever know. I love everything about you. Your eyes, your voice, your skin... The way your nose crinkles when you laugh makes my heart flutter. Oh, Christine... My Christine... How do you make a man such as I, melt in such ways that I do? I would do anything for this to become real...' _

"We do. There have been complications in our engagement. One of your childhood friends has come back and he had hoped that you would marry him instead. It has become quite complicated. I told you that I will wed you whenever you are ready. I want you to be healthy and well enough to be married, alright?" She nodded happily, looking towards Nadir with a hopeful grin. Squeezing my hand, Nadir squinted his eyes in pure skepticism as he braced himself for her final question.

"Do you think I will be healthy enough to wed in the next two weeks? I wish to wed as soon as possible."


	14. Chapter 13

**Thirteen **

| Erik |

* * *

I arose before dawn as I usually do, only to be met by Nadir's judgmental eyes. Pushing past him, I headed down to the kitchen. I wanted to make sure my Christine felt welcome in every aspect. Preparing a grandiose breakfast, I heard The Persian's footsteps not long behind me. With every intention of ignoring him, I began meticulously preparing her breakfast in the confines of the large kitchen. I do not remember the last time I was in a kitchen this big. Memories of Persia flooded my mind as Nadir sat on the bar-stool adjacent from me, reading the paper, trying to keep his tongue held. Many minutes later, Nadir put his cup of tea down and cleared his throat.

"Erik, you can't possibly be going through with this marriage." Shaking my head, I paused in my potato frying, the sound of sizzling food to fill the empty ambiance between us. "She has only temporarily lost her memory. What will she do when she finds out that you forced a marriage upon her? This is a lose-lose situation for both of you. You have to break this so called engagement off while she is still recovering. She has been tortured beyond belief. Planning a wedding is not what she needs, right now. Perhaps a fake wedding will alleviate the tension..."

"Why? Why must you ruin this for me? This is something I have waited for all my life, Nadir! She wishes to marry Erik! No woman has ever vowed to love Erik as she has done. If she promises to marry me out of her own free will, then why do question my intentions? I am simply encouraging her to marry me. I am not forcing her into a marriage. I would never do that to her. Need I remind you that _she_ swam back for _me." _Beginning to cook the eggs, Nadir placed the newspaper down in protest, his anger rising.

"No, Erik! I will not allow you to marry her like this. A marriage is between a woman and a man who share a bond of love! Does she truly love you?"

"If you must know Nadir, she has told me she loves me. The night I went out to rescue The Vicomte, she told me that she loved me. This marriage is something I have wanted ever since I heard her sing as I stood beneath The Opera House. I knew that she was to be mine and if you cannot accept that, then you are free to go. I do not want you to be present any longer. If all you are going to do is tell me what I am doing is wrong, is against her will, then I rather be alone with my Christine." Placing the finished food on the tray, I glanced outside. The sun began to rise as Nadir stood to his feet, straightening out his jacket.

"Erik, I can't leave you. She needs a proper doctor. As much as you think you know about medicine, I must be here to tend to her. If you truly think that this marriage will work, then I have nothing further to say to you. I wish you happiness and love... For the both of you." With a polite nod, Nadir parted with his paper. Taking a deep breath, I headed up the marble staircase to my Christine's room. Knocking on the door, I awaited her permission to enter.

"Come in, please." Upon my entrance, she sat against the headboard. Her hair was draped over her left shoulder, tied with a black ribbon. Her pale skin glowed in the candle light as I walked towards her with the tray of food. Placing it beside her on the bed, I took my seat next to her. "This smells lovely, dear. Thank you for the breakfast." With a soft smile, she folded her hands in her lap and looked towards the tray of food.

"Will not you eat, my Christine?" Tilting my head in concern, she shrugged her shoulders and leaned back, closing her eyes.

"I do not feel well, Erik. I will eat in a moment. Why do you rise so early in the morning?" Pressing my hand against her forehead, I gasped as I moved the tray to the bedside table.

"I rise so early for cases such as these! Let me go fetch Nadir, my Christine. You have a high fever-"

"Do not leave me, Erik! Get me a cold cloth. I will be fine. I do not want you to leave my side, Erik... Please, do not leave me..." Her pleading voice echoed throughout the bedroom as her hand tugged on my wrist, bringing me back down into my chair.

"My Christine, I will not leave you. Let me go get a cold cloth and I shall return." Placing a chaste kiss on her temple, I retreated to the wash closet. Grabbing a cold cloth, I returned to the bedroom only to find Nadir at her bedside, taking her temperature. "Daroga! What are you doing in here?" Running to her bedside, Nadir rolled his eyes as he stood to meet my eyes.

"She has a very high fever, Erik. I am going to come back with some medicine. Make sure she gets some food into her stomach, now. I do not want her to take any medicine on an empty stomach. Place the cloth on her forehead, it will help get the temperature down a couple of degrees. I will be back shortly, Christine." Nadir left the room in a commotion as I opened the tray of food.

"My Christine, please eat some eggs. If you feel faint, it will help with the nausea." She shook her head, her eyes shut. "You must eat, my Christine. I do not want you to consume any medicine that Nadir might administer to you on an empty stomach. Please, eat some toast at least..." Slowly, I began to tear some pieces of toast up for her. Taking small bites, she opened her eyes, staring blankly ahead. Her eyes were glassy, her skin paler than usual.

"Erik... My body aches..." I nodded, grasping onto her hand with fear. "I don't want to die... Will I die today, Erik?"

"Christine Daaé! Do not speak of such grave matters! I will not let you die, no I will not. You are to live a long and happy life... With me, with Erik. You are to bless the world with years and years of music... Erik will not let Christine die... Erik would die before he saw his Christine pass... Oh, Christine... My Christine... Do not speak of such ill things..." Moving a strand hair behind her ear, she shook her head as her eyes began to shut close.

"Afsar told me that I would die before he killed you... Afsar... Told me that your punishment will be to see me die before your eyes... Helplessly... I do not want to die, Erik..." Anger surged through my veins as I stood to my feet. My hands balled into fists, my blood boiled with hatred and rage. Next thing I knew, my fist broke the mirror that rested in the corner of her bedroom. Shards of glass flew everywhere, my knuckles red with blood, but that was not enough. No, it was a blur after that. My fist kept hitting the mirror until there was no longer glass there to be to call it a mirror. It was simply a wooden frame. My chest heaved, my heart pounded at an impossible rate. "E-Erik..." The small voice beckoned from behind me. Blood dripped from my torn knuckles as I turned around to meet eyes with a fearful girl. Her eyes with wide with terror, sick with horror. Her pale body sat up with fright as she clung on to the tray of food in defense. Nadir stood beside her, arising from her bed. I suppose he was guarding her body from the glass of the mirror. Shards of glass had reached her bed as I scanned the room in which I had just bludgeoned with my fist.

"I-I'm... Sorry..." I muttered under my breath as I stepped away from the broken mirror. "Nadir, carry her to another bedroom. I shall have Siré clean this room." Nadir nodded as he picked up the sickly girl from her bed. Nadir paused in his tracks as walked towards her as she clung to Nadir's body. "My Christine... I am sorry... Get some sleep, my Christine. I will visit your room soon." Kissing her temple, Nadir took her to another room, leaving me alone in the pile of broken glass.

* * *

| Nadir |

I walked slowly to the bedroom two doors down as I carried Christine in my arms. She clung loosely to my body, weak. Once I arrived in her room, I placed her at the edge of the bed.

"Sit here for a moment while I turn down the bed, Christine." With a meek nod, she waited as I turned down the bed. Picking her up once more, I placed her where the pillows lay, sitting her up gently. "You must drink this, Christine. It tastes vile, but it will help with your fever." With a reluctant nod, she downed the liquid with a shiver. "Now, you must drink another grotesque liquid. This will help you sleep through the aches you feel in your body. It will relax your muscles and soon, you will doze off into a deep sleep. Do you wish to see Erik before you drink the medicine?" She shook her head, her eyelids beginning to close once again.

"Mr. Khan... Make sure you clean his knuckles... There was so much blood..." Her body began to slip down the pillows into a sleep. Picking her body up, I squeezed her wrist. "Ow! That hurt, why did you do that?"

"To keep you awake, Christine. You must drink this, now." Drinking the liquid, she slumped down into the blankets once again, her arm falling over her face. Sighing with relief, I left the room to go search for Erik. Eventually finding him in the bathroom, he lurched over the counter, letting the blood of his knuckles drip into the basin. "Would you like help with your hand?" He nodded slowly, handing me a cloth. "I need to take the shards of glass out of your hand. Do you mind?"

"Daroga, I have suffered lashings beyond imagination, in places you dare not think of late at night. A few shards of glass in my knuckle is the least of my problems right now, Daroga." Walking out to the bedroom, he sat on the edge of the bed. Bringing out the basin of water and some supplies of mine, I brought up the chair and situated myself in a position that gave me the easiest access to his hand. Beginning to take the shards out, he sighed hopelessly to himself. "It is Afsar that is making her sick, Daroga."

"I know, Erik. She told me last night. I didn't think it was true, it couldn't be true. Upon further examination, I figured out that during her torture, he must have given her something to weaken her immune system and initiate a flu-like sickness." With a pause, I looked up at the dreary man and shook my head. "Erik, I must tell you something. You will get angry, but I need you to understand that it's only part of my job and... I want to find and kill Afsar even more than I wanted to fifteen years ago, after he killed my family. Allah, bless my family..." Erik winced at my work on his hand, staring at my face, my deadpan expression.

"Nadir, I will not get angry at you for doing your job. You have been a great help to my Christine, more of to me for so many years. What is it that stirs your anger towards Afsar, now? I mean, of course your family initiates some of that hatred, but what else is there?" With a deep breath, I sighed again. Putting down the basin, I took out the bandaging and wrapped his hand quickly. "You do not cease to amaze me, Daroga. Pray tell, what causes you to pine after Afsar?" With a breath of trepidation, I shook my head and began my testimony of horror.

"I visited Miss Daaé last night before she turned to go to sleep. She was uncomfortable, in pain. I offered to examine her ribs, as you said they were broken when you found her. I felt around her ribs and inquired that they were probably still fractured. I asked her if she remembered anything about the day she was tortured. She told me that she remembered being brutally beaten and hit. She continued to ponder on cloudy memories, but they were mostly flashes of torture. None of which she told me was clear. Before I left her to rest for the night, she told me something very personal. She... She told me that when she changed into her nightgown, there had been blood on her chemise. She retrieved the dirtied piece of clothing. She was very worried and I told her that if she was comfortable, I would perform a full body examination. She complied and after my examination, Erik... I found that just above her genital area had been severely... harmed. I had confirmed that that was her source of bleeding. I had given her small stitches and laid her in bed. I do not know what happened. She was frightened that she had been raped, but I explained that in order to be raped, she would have had to... Well, you know the rest. The damage was not to her womanhood. It was above it, close enough for her to mistake it to be rape. I want to find Afsar and make him pay for the horrendous things he has inflicted on both my family and yours, Erik. We must find him and kill him. I cannot bare to put another person through one of his Satanic acts." Erik sat silently, I assume trying to rap his mind around what I just confided in him. His head turned gradually to face mine, his eyebrows furrowing to create a crease on his unmasked forehead. Grabbing my hand, he nodded and took a deep breath, his eyes red with anger. Tears streamed from his eyes and down his cheeks. Parting his malformed lips, he stood in detestation, grabbing his cloak, preparing to journey out to find the one person we both could agree deserved death.

"_Nobody _is to touch my Christine. I will find him and I will make him suffer. No, I will not give him an immediate death." His words seethed through his teeth, his chest rising and falling with deep loathing. "I will torture him, just as he tortured my Christine! He will beg to feel the sweet release of death. His eyes will beseech me, his words will plead for his imminent death. As the blood trickles down his forehead and the pain shoots through his veins, we will stand there, watching him squirm for forgiveness." Grabbing his mask, he placed it over his face, adjusting it to perfection. "Daroga, I thank you for telling me that. How long will my Christine be asleep?"

"Fourteen hours at most, Erik. She is heavily sedated. If she is to wake and she is in pain, I left some more medicine by her bedside." Erik nodded, reaching for his Punjab lasso. As we made our way to the stables, the masked man walked towards his horse in determination. Turning towards me, he handed me a dagger with a breathy final laugh.

"Daroga, this night belongs to your family-"

"No, Erik. This night belongs to both my family and your Christine."


	15. Chapter 14

**Fourteen **

| Erik |

* * *

Our ride was slow, the humid air wafting around us. Nadir and I reminisced on our old memories in Persia, good and bad. We started on the path back to the dock where Christine and I were held. We figured that place was as good as any to start.

"I hope you have a plan, Erik." Nadir's voice broke our silence, which I actually enjoyed.

"I never have a plan. I do not know if Afsar is still there. If he is, my only plan is to make the bastard pay for both our losses. I do not wish to kill him immediately. I want him to suffer." Glancing over my shoulder, Nadir nodded as he stared straight ahead. We had been riding for at least four hours now. Shifting uncomfortably in his saddle, I knew he never liked to be sitting for long periods of time. "We are almost there, Nadir. Only about an hour or so more until we arrive."

"How will we attack him, if we do not have a plan? You have always been one to strike first and ask questions later, but we do not know who we are dealing with, Erik. He has seriously harmed your Christine. He brutally murdered my family in front of me without actually revealing his identity. It was not until years later that I found out who he was. I do not see how torturing him and then killing him, is justice. I think we should just kill him if he is there." I drowned out Nadir's pleas, thinking of ways into the dock. Formulating a plan to make Afsar suffer intolerably for what he had done.

"Mind you, I built the very torture chamber he kept myself and Christine as captives. I know it like the back of my hand, Nadir. Every trap, every tormenting scream that has been instilled in that building, runs deeply within my blood. We are dealing with a man who is just like me. He thinks simply matter over mind. As did I, long ago in Persia."

"You are not that same man, Erik. What you were forced to do in Persia was for your survival, it was necessary." Nadir's calming voice beckoned from behind me as horrid images filled my head once again. The same nightmares that haunt me in the dark, intoxicate me during the day.

* * *

_"I hope those are drawings for the new observatory and not anything else The Shah is asking for, Eric Desvrat. I know how you digress." The Empress purred into my ear as I refused to make eye contact with the emerald-eyed Queen. Her fingers dwindled at the nape of my neck, gently tugging at the tiny hairs that hung there. "Charcoal, how seductive of you, Eric. My husband will be very disappointed when he hears that you created nude drawings of his wife in charcoal." Pushing the chair I sat in away from my desk, her legs straddled mine, my eyes still averted to the ground. I did not dare look the temptress in the eye. _

_"Your husband should be relieved then, when I tell him that I did no such act of treason." I replied, seething through my teeth. Forcing my chin up, her green pupils dilated, staring gravely into mine as my breathing became heavy with trepidation. _

_"You wouldn't dare speak your mind in the court of The Shah of Persia! Haven't we taught you to hold your tongue in the presence of The Shah and his wife?" Her nails dug into my skin as her legs squeezed onto mine, constricting my body to the confinements of the wooden chair. _

_"You have apparently not taught me well enough, my Queen." Pulling the dagger that rested at my side in its scabbard, she pressed its silvery tip into my jaw, not hard enough to draw blood. Foolish woman. _

_"I'll have you taken to the torture chambers, Eric Desvrat. Don't test my patience." Throwing the dagger onto the floor, she stepped off of me, flipping her midnight black hair onto her back. "I shall return tonight to have those drawings done. If you refuse me, there will be severe consequences. There's no telling what they'll do to you in the chambers." _

_"You mean the chambers I designed for The Shah? It is quite intimidating, throwing me into the fair in which I ignited." _

_The Next Day_

_I stood before The Shah and The Empress, bound and silent in the royal court. I was unmasked, dripping blood. From where, that I do not know. Unable to stand, my skin raw from the lashings I took, I fell to the tiled ground beneath me. Kneeling before the royalty, my body was frail, shaking. The blood seeped through my shirt as I barely held a pulse, bowing before the woman who turned me in for a crime I did not commit. After almost years of working for The Shah, she simply realized that I did not belong in Persia. I could not blame her. _

_"Do you know why you kneel before me, Mr. Desvrat?" The Shah's voice, stern in an unwelcoming tone. _

_"I-I do n-not." My body was wounded to the brink of death as I breathed out the words to the best of my feeble ability. _

_"You are here, kneeling in front of me, because you committed a crime. You drew vulgar pictures of The Empress. Did you not think my servants would not find them when cleaning your rooming chambers, Mr. Desvrat? Did you actually believe that you would not be caught? Did you actually believe in that crude mind of yours, that you would leave Persia alive?" I shook my head, my chest breathing scarcely as I closed my eyes, awaiting my death. "I do not know what to do with you, Mr. Desvrat. Shall I kill you? You are quite the architect, magician... Yet, I cannot have your improper thoughts roaming around here any longer. What to do... What to do..." The Shah stood to his feet, his body moving closer to mine. His foot made contact with my malformed face, kicking me onto my side. I do not dare make a sound, though the pain that shoots through my veins is intolerable. "I would very much like to kill you right now. I do not believe those thirty lashes was quite enough to get those dirty thoughts out of your head." He whispered, his lips brushing my bloodied earlobe. I barely had enough skin on my lips left to respond. His hand gripped my arm, pulling me to my feet. "Get this abhorrence out of my face. I do not wish to have a demon in my presence any longer. Do keep him alive, though. I want him to feel the sword against his neck before his head is removed from his body." Throwing me into the arms of the two guards, The Empress' giggles filled the court as I felt my eyes roll back into the back of my head. "Take him to Nadir Khan. He will know what to do to keep him alive until Friday's execution." _

_The lights were bright as I awoke from what seemed like an everlasting slumber. My body no longer ached, but I was still unmasked as the cool air hit my face. Soon, the sensation of living began to flow back into my fingertips and toes. A man's hand came harshly across my cheek, slapping me into reality. _

_"Awaken now, before the guards come back!" In a yelled whisper, I sat up, not knowing where I was. Looking around, a man with glasses was violently shoving things into a bag in the corner. _

_"Where am I?" I asked, hopping off the bench, walking over to the more than frantic man. _

_"You are in the execution quarters. It is Friday, Mr. Desvrat. You are about to be executed. Do not you remember that you committed a very adulterous act against The Shah?" Nodding slowly, I grabbed the pile of clothes, resting on the cot. _

_"It does not seem as if my execution is on your list of to-dos today, Mr..." _

_"Mr. Khan. My name is Nadir Khan. I have nursed you back to health, more or less. You have severe lashing scars across your body. You lost significant amount of blood. I had to donate some of my blood to transfuse it to your body. You have been sedated for the last 48 hours. I could not perform the surgery I needed to with you awake. The torturers, they lashed you with glass. I am sorry. I believe you did not commit the crime you are being accused for... I have too, lost my family in this hell hole. I am after the man who killed my family, hired by The Shah. There is no time to explain that story though, Mr. Desvrat. In other words, I do not know where your mask is, Mr. Desvrat. We must hurry though, if you want to make it out of Persia alive." Throwing me the bag, he glanced outside the iron gate in anxiety. "We will be leaving in five minutes." _

_"What is your plan?" Changing into the clothes provided, I glanced down at my chest, the horrible scarring revealing itself. Across my chest, my arms, my legs, and in places I dare not look, scars were violently painted on my body. _

_"My plan is to fake your death. I have it planned. We are to take a boat then, to Paris. From there we are to part for some time. I will return to you when I know it is safe. I have a friend who has agreed to take you in when we arrive in Paris. She will guide you to wherever you want to go, but I suggest you find a job and get a new name. I am sorry, but I will need to put a bandage over your face when we arrive to the boat. I need to convince them that you were in a terribly accident and I am your doctor that needs to be by your side twenty four seven, for your constant beck and call. Once we get to our room, we will continue as if we never knew each other." Peering outwards once more, he nodded and began climbing up the stone wall. "It is time." _

_"Welcome aboard the Elissa, do you have your tickets?" Handing them our tickets in urgency, the man looked me up and down, his suspicion rising. "Is this mate sickly? If he is, he needs to stay in the sick ward of the ship." _

_"That is highly unlikely, sir. I must tend to him at all times. He has been in a fire and his face his burnt, in need of special medication, which I carry. It is imperative that I stay beside him at all times. Shall we be parted, we will find another boat-" _

_"Don't get your undergarments in a twist, that should be fine. Have a nice journey." We gave them an appreciative nod as we boarded. The room was small, only one bed and a small bathroom. _

_"I will take the chair, Mr. Khan. You have already done so much for me, I cannot even begin to think of ways of repaying you." The man glanced at me, smiling as he gestured for me to enter the room. "I do not sleep much, anyway. There is far too much on my mind, at all times." He nodded, sitting on the most uncomfortable looking bed. Sighing in relief, he discarded of his day coat and rubbed his eyes. _

_"The woman who has agreed to take you in is a dear friend of mine. Her name is Madame Bont__é. She is older yes, but is a wonderful woman. She teaches music at The Opera Populaire. Her sister is the famous ballerina, Madame Giry. You indulge in music, yes?" I shrugged my shoulders, noticing that the ship began to move. _

_"I can play the violin and the piano. I learned at a very young age, in fact I taught myself. I had nothing else to do as a child. My mother never let me out of the attic and when she left for work, I escaped and taught myself piano." _

_"You will have a fine future in Paris. It suits you, my friend. Have you thought of a new name yet?" I pondered a bit, remembering something that struck interest. _

_"I will keep my first name, but change the 'c' to a 'k.' I quite like the spelling change. As for my last name... I read a poem as a young boy by the name of a man named Augustus Destler. It was about running away to the new world, finding a land that was unexplored and undiscovered. I much liked the thought of running away. I might like to change my last name to his... He only had two poems that were published... He died at a young age... Though, his poems lived on, at least... With me. What do you think?" Mr. Khan smiled widely and held out his hand, a new hopeful glint in his eyes that I could very much get used to. _

_"It's a pleasure meeting you then, Monsieur Erik Destler." _

* * *

We soon arrived to the dock, the building standing tall. One light, flickered in the night as we approached the building, hitching our horses to a tree, far from the building. I looked at Nadir as he prayed to himself, walking bravely to the tall, marble building.

"Don't you wish we were back on The Elissa, in the middle of the ocean, where no one could harm us..." I mumbled, my cloak blowing in the breeze as we neared the door, breathing quietly to remain unheard. Soon, Nadir's hand was on my chest, pushing me backwards. His eyes were scared, yet truthful. I knew that he wanted justice for his family and he knew this was the only way he was going to achieve it.

"No, I do not. I wish we were standing right here together, fighting for what is right in this miserable world." As I reached to opened the door, the one voice we dreaded, yet hoped for bellowed from inside the building, pulling us in by the collars. Finally, twisting the doorknob we entered the pitch black room, taking what might be our final breaths.

"Be careful what you wish for, Mr. Khan."


	16. Chapter 15

**Fifteen**

* * *

| Erik |

**This chapter is a bit graphic in violence. **

**There is your warning.**

* * *

The Persian and I froze in our stances as the voice spoke from the darkness. Reaching for my lasso, the omnipotent voice spoke out once again, this time from another location.

"I would not do that if I were you, Mr. Desvrat." Nadir glanced over to me, narrowing his eyes in punishment. Stepping forward, I took no such threat and kept my hands atop my lasso. "You wish to die then, Mr. Desvrat?" I shrugged my shoulders, a nonchalant huff escaping my lips.

"Oh, Allah... Help us in our time of need..." Nadir pleaded, under his breath.

"Now, is _not_ the time to pray. You had a five hour ride on a horse for that, Daroga!" I whispered at quite the elevated sound. "It is not _our_ deaths you should be worrying about, Afsar." A maniacal laugh emerged from the ever present darkness, the figure not much taller than myself. Dressed in a rather formal suit for the occasion, the dark skin man stood before us, his eyes yellow. Across his face, a prominent scar, probably acquired during a duel, which I only hoped ended it Afsar screaming in mercy. Folding his hands beneath his chin, he stepped forward.

"If it is not the notorious Eric Desvrat and Nadir Khan. I should be bowing in the presence of such an _infamous _felon and his accomplice." Slowly, he paced around us, his eyes never leaving mine. "Yet, I do not want to ruin my new suit that I had tailored for this very occasion. You see, I plan to murder the both of you. Mr. Khan, first of course. He will be quick and painless. Sound like a deal?" Nadir nodded willingly, shrugging his shoulders.

"Oh, yes. It sounds like a plan. I cannot wait." Nadir raised his eyebrow, only provoking Afsar on more. I quite enjoyed watching this side of Nadir.

"And you, Eric... I have many plans for you. I have been looking for you quite a long time, Mr. Desvrat. Now, if you'll excuse me gentlemen, I have an execution to plan." Afsar stepped backwards, the expression on his face not looking promising at all. I reached for my lasso, but it was not there! I searched my body endlessly for my lasso, until I looked up moments later. "Looking for this, Mr. Desvrat?" Afsar stood at the end of the hallway, holding up the red lasso, his smile more obnoxious than ever.

"WHEN I GET TO YOU-"

"What? You'll sing me to death? I do not think you understand. You will not get to me and if you do, it will be in pieces. Pieces that will be fed to my hungry tigers. I heard everything you said. You made this torture house. I understand that part... But what you cannot get through that deformed skull of yours is that I _perfected _it." The bastard snapped his fingers and as I turned around, steel bars came falling down, encircling Nadir and myself in different cages. "Look familiar, Eric?" The floor gave out, leaving us only standing on a tiny piece of concrete. "Yes, acid is down there. Above you, blades, yes. You designed it after all, didn't you?"

"Praise Allah, for He is good... For He is almighty..." Nadir was repeating, his chest heaving in nervous waves of hyperventilation. The sound of the vicious blades coming down began to get louder and louder, Afsar approaching our cages.

"Would you prefer your weak room of mirrors or your sad room of heat? No, this is far better. I perfected your cage. You only had acid. I added the blades, I also added this..." Pressing a button on his pocket watch, the walls beside us began to transform into mirrors. "My friends, my friends... You are in the viewing room and who better to view your death, then Nadir's family and your Christine?"

The sight disgusted me. To the left of me, Christine sat bound in a chair, gagged, and bloody. Her chest was rising rapidly, her tears falling in erratic movement. She shook her head as the burly man pressed the pistol to her head, only angering me to the brink of rage.

"LET HER GO! SO HELP ME GOD, YOU WILL BE THE ONE TO DIE IN THIS CHAMBER!" Afsar laughed, moving his head his left, my right. Nadir stood in shock as his family sat, just as Christine was, bound and bloody. "How... HIS FAMILY WAS MURDERED! BY YOU! DO NOT TEMPT ME FURTHER, MY HANDS WILL KILL YOU THEMSELVES!" His two sons were crying, pistols to their temples. His wife was shaking her head, her eyes shut tightly, clutching their tiny daughter to her chest.

"Allah forgive me, for I know not what I will do... You are almighty... You are good..." Afsar stepped away, his arms basking in his so-called triumph.

"You two are in steel cages. The blades above you as sharp as shark teeth and the acid below you, as hazardous as true love... Soon, the tigers will be released and the cage will be lifted, but you will have nowhere to go. Flames, swords, and blades will be your causes of death. Shall I continue? Pray tell, do you know how to get out of this one, Mr. Desvrat?" My mind was racing, I knew in the back of Asfar's head that if I saved Nadir and I, his family and my Christine would surely die. I could not save the both of us. Surely, I knew how to get out of this cage. It was easy. He said he perfected it, but it was just empty threats. He did absolutely nothing to it.

"If I told you, then you'd have to kill me. Yet again, you're planning on killing me anyway... If I remember correctly, the flames are just illusions. You could walk through them, no problem. Water with a bit of coloring, a bit of heat as well. The blades are sharp, though. This cage is the problem..." Afsar smirked, believing that he had us in quite the trap. "Oh, no the problem still lays with you. Believing that these cages could actually hold us. Daroga, are you listening to me?"

"Oui, Erik. The blades are nearing. If you could speak faster, I would much enjoy it!" Nadir shouted, trying to speak over the noise of the blades.

"Precisely. You have to follow my specific instructions Daroga, this is imperative. I do hope you are listening to me Afsar." Afsar looked to the two viewing rooms, giving them a nod. Both sets of guards pressed the pistols harder, causing me to fume in fury as it began to surge within my blood. "Starting from the bar in front of you, the first perpendicular bar represents a three. Do you see it, Daroga?" The speed in my voice was increasing as my gaze switched from the two viewing rooms.

"I do, tell me what is next!"

"Press it, Nadir." As they pressed the perpendicular bar, the floor returned from beneath them. Relieved, Nadir smiled widely and turned to face me. My eyes searched endlessly for the next button. Goddamnit, where is it? 222... 111...74...

"Are those multiples of 666? Erik, really you designed this cage after the devil?" I smirked, searching for the 74th notch in the cage.

"No, I designed it after myself and the mother that held me in it. FOUND IT! Nadir, turn forty five degrees to your left - No Daroga, to your left. There we go... And you're a doctor?"

"Time is ticking, men." Afsar pointed up to blades that were only about fifty feet above us, slowly moving down to our deaths.

"There is a notch in the cage that looks like an, 'S.' On three we press it, okay? One... Two... Three!" Simultaneously, the cage lifted and we were free from the confines of the steel.

"How did you know it was the 74th notch?" Nadir breathed out heavily.

"I could have led us through each other notch, but the blades! Nadir, duck!" The blades came swinging above us, taking off my hat. Their shimmering steel, pendulum swung back and forth as we laid still on our stomachs, the ground beginning to rise in temperature. As I looked up, Afsar's dark figure had left. "The ground, it is getting hot..."

"You think so? I think it is nice and cold! We cannot just lie here and burn to death, our families!" Nadir seethed, my heart beginning to race as the sound of the moving blades caused me to rapidly think of solutions. "Erik, you must think of a way out of here. You designed this damn thing! May I add that you are a sick bastard! 666 and blades?" Ignoring his remarks, my epiphany finally hit me.

"We must roll to the other side. There is a button, Daroga. It will reset everything and turn it back into a normal house, building." Nadir shot me a look of pure shock, unable to comprehend the words that I had just spoken.

"Roll? How do you suppose we roll under a giant steel blade and a burning hot floor?!"

"Patience, Nadir. It is a pendulum, no?" Nadir narrowed his eyes, indicating that I was good to continue. "When it reaches the other side of the room, we roll as far as we can until it comes back. We will need to be on opposite sides, for we do not want to be in the middle. That is the apex of the blade, surely we will not make it back in one piece if one of us gets caught in the apex. Do you understand me? I will give you a, 'thumbs up' when it is safe to roll. Daroga, it is our only chance to save our families. We must give this our all, right here and right now." Nadir smiled slightly, as much as he could for being on his stomach.

"I would not want to do with anyone else, brother."

"Do not get sentimental on me, I do not like it." With a tiny nod, we lurched ourselves against the wall and waited for the blade to reach the other side of the room. "Now!" I did not think that we would get as far as we did, but the blade was going fairly slowly. "Now!" Almost halfway across the room, my gut was telling me that something was not right. My nerves were shooting, my hands twitching. In that moment, I knew that Nadir needed to get to his family and I had to get to Afsar.

_Christine. My Christine. _

"Nadir! You must go on without me! There will be six buttons when you reach the end, press the last one three times and it will lead you into the viewing room. Save your family, Nadir. I must go to Christine. If we shall not meet again, it has been a pleasure serving with you. I owe you my life for all you have done for me." Nadir moved to speak, but I raised my hand to stop him. "Go. Your family needs you. You are almost past the blade. Daroga, you _must_." With a deep breath, I stood to my feet and braced myself for the blade.

"Bless Allah... For You have given me the brother I will never forget... The strongest man I have ever known... Bless Allah... Bless him..."

With a nod, I jumped atop the blade, knowing that the rod that swung it did not have much strength and it could be swayed easily. Using the full of my body weight, I made sure that Nadir had reached his family before I swung the blade into the window that I had previously seen Christine in, where she no longer sat. The glass has gotten into my body, but I knew that I had to find Christine. Shrugging off my cloak, for its weight was too heavy to bare, I stepped out into the hallway. Saddened that Nadir's combat skills were better than mine, I crept down the hallway, searching through every room. I reached a staircase and followed it, only to hear Afsar's voice.

"You think your Angel will save you? No, by now he is either cremated or split in two!" He was speaking to my Christine! I leaned against the wall, out of sight of Afsar.

"P-Please don't hurt me... I have nothing! Please, I'm just a girl! Don't hurt me...!" Her voice was hoarse, her tears choking on every word that spilled out of her frightened mouth. She was right, she was _just _a girl. A girl I promised to protect with my life and yet, there she was with Afsar. Lowering my head, my eyes widened at the sight of my Christine. Naked, her ankles were bound as my red lasso hung around her neck. Exposed! My Christine, humiliated because of me! Surely, she will never let me near her. My blood began to boil as she squirmed under the lasso. Her chest was moving faster than I had ever seen it moved, her body bathed in sweat. She had bruises and cuts, but I thanked _God _that it was just a few bruises. "W-Why are you holding me in the Punjab? I have done nothing to hurt you! My name is Christine, Christine Daaé! I was a singer at The Opera P-Populaire. Please d-do not hurt me... Do n-not r-rape me..." The word stung me as it left her innocent lips. No, that word should never taint such a soul as my Christine's. "I am just a girl! Barely nineteen!... Do n-not rape me!" She pleaded, her eyes red from crying so hard. Afsar laughed, pressing his daggar to her chin. His palm met her cheek in a vicious slap, his hands gripping her mouth.

"Shut up, Christine. I do not wish to hear anymore from your mouth. You say you have done nothing, but that is very wrong. You have gained the affection of Erik Destler. That my dear girl, is a crime in itself." His palm, the very palm that was still red from his slap, met her breast as he squeezed it, letting out an carnal growl. "You are a crime, to have a body such as yours? Have you ever been touched? Has Erik ever laid a hand on you, hmmm?"

"No, he has not and if you set another hand on her, he will make sure that your hands are cut off and given to you on a silver platter." Afsar turned around, applauding me with a sarcastic nod. Pulling on the noose, my Christine's toes reached for the ground in an attempt to save her own life.

"E-ERIK!" She cried out, trying her hardest to reach the ground beneath her.

"I knew you would come, Mr. Desvrat. After all, she _is_ naked and in _your_ lasso." With a wink, Afsar lifted a glass, offering me some scotch, which probably had some poison in it. Refusing it, he down the glass and broken it on the ground. Picking up a shard, he approached my Christine, examining the piece of glass. "I would very much like to plunge this shard of glass into your stomach, Christine. After all, my poison did not work on you." Bending down, he examined her womanhood and sighed. "I see the scar is still there. Would you like to know what I did to her while she was unconscious, Mr. Desvrat?" My Christine cried harder as he pulled the noose tighter, he feet rising higher and higher off of the ground.

"E-Erik, please..." She begged as Afsar pressed the shard of glass into her stomach.

"Stop! Afsar, let her go and I will do whatever you want, just let her go. I will do anything!" Afsar seemed to ignore my plea as my tears fell quickly, hot and salty. I tore off my mask, unable to take the heat that built underneath it. Pressing the shard farther, my Christine cried out in pain, her feet searching for the floor, but hopelessly coming up empty. "Afsar, I beg you! Just let Christine go and I will do anything for you! Please... Just let her go..." I knelt down, unable to look at my Christine, the blood dripping down onto the floor.

"It sounds enticing, Mr. Desvrat... But, the cries of your little Angel sound better..." Shoving the shard of glass in her stomach, my Christine shrieked out as he went over to pick up another shard. "I am not here to make deals, Mr. Desvrat. I am here to make you suffer. I could have killed her immediately, you see. I wanted you to suffer. Sound familiar, Mr. Desvrat?" Shoving another shard into the opposite side of her stomach, my Christine shook her head, screaming out once again in undeniable pain. "Does it hurt you to know that with one quick pull, her neck would be broken?" He pressed it further into her pale skin, slowly as it weakened me with every shove. "Does it frustrate you that I will have shoved so many pieces of glass into her stomach that she may never be with child? Are you suffering yet, Mr. Desvrat?" I looked down on the floor, the sound of my Christine's sobs filling my ears.

"Just let her go, please! I beg of you Afsar! Whatever you want, you shall have! Spare her life and take mine! Let her go and take me, I will suffer a millon lifetimes, if you just let her go-"

"And I will suffer two million before I let any of you go." With a loud bang, Afsar was on the floor, a bullet through his chest. "One for good measure, huh?" Soon, another bullet pierced Afsar's head, blood beginning to seep out of his lifeless body.

"Get her out of the noose!" I yelled, trying to untie the bounds that my Christine's feet were wrapped in, indefinitely. Soon, I grabbed my dagger and eventually just ripped them open, for time's sake. Her limp body sank into my body, her pulse barely there. "Mon amour, you must stay awake... You have lost a lot of blood, but you must keep your eyes on mine... P-Please..." Brushing stray hairs out of her face, Nadir wrapped my cloak around her, engulfing her in warmth.

"I saw it when I returned to the chamber. I heard her screams and followed them." I nodded, holding my Christine close to my chest, picking her up into my arms. "I will bandage her when we get her onto the carriage out front. For now, hold pressure on her wounds." Nadir grabbed my mask off of the ground and soon, we were out in front as the carriage await us.

"Where did _you_ get a _carriage_, Daroga?" He smiled widely, his family turning the corner.

"They had to arrive here somehow. Afsar put the carriage behind the building. We came here with two horses and it is enough to pull a carriage." Nadir's wife approached me, her black hair flowing elegantly down her back. "This is my wife, Farideh. This is my dear friend, Erik. That is all the introduction we have time for, I am afraid. We must get Christine to the town that is about an hour from here. I must stitch her up and get her some clothing."

"Your sons are already in the carriage, sleeping. There is space in the back for your Christine, if you want to lay her down, Monsieur." I nodded, taking Christine to the back. Resting her head on my lap, I wrapped her body tightly in my cloak that seemed to easily encapsulate her shivering figure. As Nadir's family sat in front, we began our journey to the city.

"You must stay awake, mon amour. Keep your eyes on me." I whispered to the girl laying on my lap. Unable to get the image of Afsar torturing my Christine out of my head, I sighed heavily.

"I... My stomach hurts..." There was a lot of blood, surely. Pressing the cloak down on her wounds, I made sure I kept pressure on it at all times. "Your cloak..."

"You are far more important than a measly scrap of clothing." Kissing her forehead lightly, I looked forward, my heart heavy with the night's events. I had no idea of Nadir's family reappearance. How they showed up, it was beyond me. Did Nadir know they still lived? It hard to tell. Sighing once more, my thoughts raced with only plans of revenge. On whom, only the darkest parts of me knew and when they reach my consciousness, I hope I am able to control it.


	17. Chapter 16

**Sixteen**

* * *

| Erik |

**A/N: Ah, the sexy times will soon come... Patience...**

* * *

Farideh's hand clutched mine tightly as my Christine's screams filled the hotel room. They were agonizing, truly fulfilling their purpose of torturous to my ears. Farideh's eyes were calm as she watched her two boys play on the ground. My whole body twitched as I stood to my feet, nervously pacing the floor.

"They should be done by now. Why is he taking so _damn_ long?" I growled, eyeing down the door.

"Language, monsieur! There are children present. I do not know why he is taking his time. I assure you, your Christine is good in hands. You are going to make a hole in the floor with all that pacing, though. Take a seat and allow me to make you some tea, please." I shook my head, my head jerking towards the door.

"He did not have to barricade the door, you know." She shrugged her shoulders, making her way to the tiny kitchen. She hummed quietly, filling the kettle with water. "Daroga, I swear..." I cursed underneath my breath, only interrupted by the opening of the door. "Nadir, I'll have your head!"

"Sure you will, Erik. Listen to me, she is resting. I have sedated her. She is stitched and needs rest. Your anger will only aggravate my work. You may visit her, but do not hurt her." Glaring down The Persian, I grabbed him by his collar. He seemed bored by my actions.

"You think that I will _hurt _her?" I seethed, my eyes narrow.

"No, no. I was just being careful. Go, but go quietly." Rolling my eyes, I entered the bedroom swiftly without noise.

She was clothed, curled up on the bed like a child. Her curls draped over her face. I slid a chair gently beside her, tears immediately finding the corners of my eyes. "I am so sorry, mon amour... I failed you... I have failed you completely... I will never forgive myself... I let another man touch you... Harm you... Right in front of me..." My body shook as my face grew hot with tears. "I did not save you. I harmed you, I hurt you... Your angel of music... No, this devil in hell." Wiping tears, I placed a gentle kiss to her temple and stood to my feet. "I cannot face you, Christine, for I have failed you in all my promises. I have failed you so many times. I do not deserve you. Erik no longer deserves his Christine." Making my way to the balcony, I stepped out and glanced back at the sleeping girl. I could tell she was in an intolerable pain. An intolerable pain that I caused. Shaking my head, I walked towards the railing and wiped away the remainder of my tears, taking one final breath. "He never did..."

I fell into the night, making my way over to César's hitching post. The horse whinnied in response to my shaky touch, only to earn a shush from my lips. Remembering that I purchased a cloak earlier, I wrapped it around myself and began my journey. I had to find out who Afsar worked for, if there was anybody. I knew for a fact that he could not have accomplished what he did today alone. No, a man of his stature would have to be paid or something. As I rode on, I began to ponder on my days in Persia. The happier days of my architecture and magic. No dreams of torture or murder, no that is something you are conditioned to do, for survival or not.

"Oh, Nadir... Am I foolish for fleeing..." I mumbled, wondering if my Christine had awoken from her discomforted slumber.

_'I would say you are more of a coward for fleeing, but we can use your terms, if you'd like.' _Nadir's voice echoed in the back of my mind.

"I failed her, though. She was naked... Bleeding... I did absolutely nothing, how could I? He was going to pull the noose on her, goddamnit!"

_'Exactly, he was going to pull the noose on her. She would understand if you just turned your dumb ass around and came back to explain. Erik, you are sometimes so stupid. You could not control his actions. He used your weakest point and dangled it in front of you, while you were defenseless. She would understand if you just picked up your head and explained that to her.' _I shook my head, trying to get his voice of reason out of my head.

"I am a horrible human being for fleeing, but it's the only way to keep her safe! Besides, I'm sure _de Chagny _will have no problem making her feel at home. What do you say, hm?"

_'I say, you turn that frown upside down and drag your pathetic ass back to the hotel before she does something stupid like, uh, oh yeah! Go after you! You imbecile, that de Chagny man will make her feel at home, you know he will. He will see that the imminent threat of Erik Destler is gone and he will comfort Christine in the mourning of your departure and then, he will pounce on her like a Mama Bear getting dinner for her cubs!' _

"Your analogies are spot on, Daroga. Telling me that de Chagny will make a move on my Christine really makes me happier."

_'It wasn't. What are you going to do? The bridge is crossed. Are you just going to stand there and watch it burn? Truly, if you keep going... You are going to past the point of no return.' _Laughing at his attempt to be formal, I sighed and halted César in the middle of the path.

"Ah, you do listen to my music, Nadir! I was beginning to think that you did not enjoy my music."

_'Erik...' _He seethed. I could just see Nadir's glare, peering into my soul. Sighing in defeat, I gave my horse a nudge and leaned down to César's ear, whispering my instructions. Taking off in a fast paced gallop, I knew what I had to do. _'Wait! Where are you going?! This is not the way of the hotel?!" _

"Exactly, Daroga. This is _my _way. Now, go take care of Christine like I asked you to, please. I am leaving her in your care, Allah help me."

* * *

| Christine |

_Hours Later _

The pain in my stomach was incorrigible as I groaned in pain. Grasping my abdomen, I sat up against the wall, looking around the unfamiliar room. My neck was stiff and my ankles burned. I faintly remember being in a room with someone I did not recognize. Scanning the room, I tried to swing my legs off the side of the bed to stand, but the pain was too great. Falling onto the ground, the door violently opened and two people came rushing to my side.

"You should not be out of bed, Mademoiselle!" The man yelled, carrying me back onto the bed. "Where is Erik? He came in here to check on you hours ago! I just supposed you two were asleep." Erik... Yes, my fiancé! I think... "Did he tell you where he was going?" I shook my head, looking down at the blood bandages as the dark skinned man checked the in a hurry. "Your stitches did not come undone, thank Allah. Christine, how are you feeling?"

"I'm... My stomach hurts a lot and my neck hurts. Other than that, I am fine. Do I know you?" The man paused, probably mentally slapping himself for not introducing himself.

"Oh yes, we have met before. I am Nadir Khan. A good friend of your _fiancé, _Monsieur Erik Destler. I am your doctor. This would be the third time I have nursed you back to health." I nodded slowly, reaching for the glass of water. "Again, do you know where Erik is?" I shook my head, taking a sip of water.

"I have not seen Erik, yet. I would very much like to see him. Could you tell me what happened to my stomach? My pain is unbearable and there is an awful amount of blood... Oh my, did I miscarry?" My mouth fell agape as I began to worry for Erik. Was that the reason for his absence?

"No, you did not miscarry. You were being held captive by an old enemy of his. You were tortured and cut severely by glass. I had to get the glass out and stitch you closed. Unfortunately, you lost a lot of blood on the way over here to this hotel and you fainted. When you awoke, I was in the middle of removing the second shard and you screamed in pain. Allah, forgive me for every causing you pain... I sedated you lightly and then... You fell to the ground." I laughed slightly as I tried to mask my growing worry for Erik. Recognizing that I was worried, Nadir instructed for me to stay calm. "Erik takes walks, often. He probably needed a bit of fresh air. It has been a stressful few weeks for him." I nodded slowly, only to be interrupted by a woman barging into the bedroom.

"Deepest apologies, I am Farideh, his wife!" Pointing to Nadir, she waved a letter in the air. "This was just delivered, it is addressed to Christine. It is from Erik. Nadir, you have one too." Handing the letters out, Nadir sat on the chair, reading intently. His wife walked over to me, handing me the letter in trepidation. "I do not know the contents of the letter, but his handwriting seems scribbled. He is usually so eloquent and thorough with his letters." Stepping away, I tore open the letter and began to read the sealed fate.

_My Christine, _

_I am sorry to be writing to you on such short of a notice. If you have awoken and I am not there, then that is for the better. I have eternally failed you and I can never be rid of that guilt. I have hid many things from you, to shield you from the darkest evils. Your memory is soon returning to you. When you have recalled the monstrous events of today, you will recognize that I have failed in protecting you, saving you, guarding you, and guiding you. My past has come back, taking the one thing I have striven to shield with my own life: you. I have left you with the deepest regret and I hope you find happiness in your life, whatever that may be. Enclosed is the address of The Vicomte de Chagny. He has agreed to take you into his estate and raise you to full health. You shall not look for me, you will not find me. I am sorry to leave you, you do not know how painful this is for me. Mon Amour, you have made me the happiest man and I cannot begin to explain to you just how much I am going to miss you. My Christine, never forget that I love you and that I will never forget you. My Christine, you have given me so much to live for, you have given me music and love. A love undeserving, a hope once lost, and a dream once diminished. Whenever you feel like giving up, just remember that I will always be with you. _

_With Deepest Sorrows,  
Desvrat _

_Our days together have ended, it is time to start anew._

* * *

| Nadir |

With deep fear, I opened the letter.

_My Brother, _

_We have braved this life together, side by side. I cannot express just how much I owe to you in one measly letter. Truly, you have made my life worth living, Daroga. It is with the utmost gratitude that I hand my Christine over to your family's care. I have disclosed The Vicomte de Chagny's addressed and I demand that you get her safely to his estate. He will take care of her, I assure you. Do not test me, I will find someway to kill you otherwise. Nadir, I will miss you dearly and I wish your family the best. You are the closest thing I have to a family I have of my own. I have gone after Afsar's boss. I wish you do not come after me, for my Christine's safety is your number one concern. I have failed her and do not deserve her love. You were right, the engagement - the love - was never going to work. I am sorry to be telling you this through a letter, but it must be done. Give my regards to Farideh, Jalil, and Iman. _

_In Time,  
Eric Desvrat _

_Keep her safe. _

* * *

**PART ONE FINISHED**


	18. PART TWO

**PART TWO**  
**Chapter Seventeen**

As we move into the second half of the story, I want to thank everyone who has taken the time to review and to read it. A few recaps:

Erik has fled to look for Afsar's boss and has demanded that Christine be taken to The Victome de Chagny's estate. He has been gone for a little over two months now. He warns Nadir Khan that Christine's safety is imperative and if she is harmed, Erik will find a way to kill Nadir somehow. Erik has requested that Nadir does not follow him back to Persia, for it was revealed that Nadir's family is still alive and needs to be The beginning of each chapter, unless otherwise stated, will be a journal entry from Christine's diary that she started once she arrive at The Vicomte de Chagny estate. Her thoughts and feelings towards the sudden change in her lifestyle will be recorded in her diary. Still, she has no recollection of her life before she was rescued the first time from Afsar's torture chamber. She still believes that she is engaged to Erik.  
The dates I place the entries for the diary are totally made up and I have no idea of actual dates. Please do not actually ask me about them. Thank you.

* * *

_3 October 1874. _

_I awake in a place I hardly know. The sheets are cold, the rooms unfamiliar. The Vicomte de Chagny claims that we knew each other in another life, when we were young. He recalls stories of our childhood, yet I look upon him with such confusion. Nothing feels like it did when Erik was around, even if I knew nothing about my fiancé. Erik's gaze was welcoming, his touch warm and sentimental. I read his letter every night before I close my eyes. I hear his voice calling to me in my dreams, just as if he was laying beside me. He calls to me and I respond to him, aching for his return. I do not know about his whereabouts and his friend, Nadir, will not disclose that information to me. The Vicomte tells me that it is for the best that I do not know, yet I cannot help but feel that something is wrong, that something horrendous has occurred because of me. I cannot shake the feeling of my guilt. As I rise everyday, I feel Erik's hands upon my shoulders, pushing me back into the bed, telling me to rest more... That the day can wait... That I belong nowhere else, but in the grace of his arms. I miss him so much. How can I miss someone I barely know? I know his intentions were good to leave me in the care of The Vicomte, but I can hardly breathe without the presence of my Angel here with me. When I close my eyes, the faint figure of Erik reaches out to me and the soothing voice lulls me back into a deep slumber. Oh, how I miss his voice! Why did he have to leave? Was it, because of me? Does he not love me? He did not care to leave me with a ring, but I know the harsh pull I feel on my heart towards him is enough to know that I am eternally bound to him. I will wait a million lifetimes for his return at this estate. That is the truth... I choose him above everything else..._

* * *

"Little Lotte, shall we go for lunch?" Raoul's voice rang through the sitting room as I turned to meet his hazel eyes. He was tall, broad shouldered, handsome. Kind-hearted with all the right intentions, I thanked him daily for allowing me to stay here.

"Yes, I am sorry that you are obligated to push me around in this dreadful wheelchair, though." Since the incident with my stomach, it has been most difficult for me to walk more than a few steps on my own. Well, that is Raoul's take on the situation. "Raoul, I feel fine. I can walk to the dining hall. Please, it will feel good to stretch my legs."

"Certainly not, Little Lotte. Don't you remember what happened last time you tried to walked? You practically fainted as you stood! I am happy to assist you. Your body has been through a tremendous deal, you need to rest as much as you can. What would Erik say if he saw you walking in your condition?" The truth of the matter is not what he would _say_, it is simply what he would _do_ to The Vicomte de Chagny if he heard that he allowed me to walk in my condition. Sighing in defeat, I leaned back into the mobile chair as Raoul entered the dining hall.

"Thank you, Raoul... For everything you have done for me. I truly appreciate your company." The Vicomte smiled softly, lifting me out of the chair with ease. Making sure I was comfortable, he put the chair in the corner and took off his gloves. "Will you be joining me for lunch?"

"I wouldn't have it any other way, Lotte!" Sitting across from me, Bella and Ferdinand brought our meals in and returned to the corners of the room with a polite nod. "Lotte, tell me... Does Erik make you happy?" Placing the napkin on my lap, I glanced at the man in front of me with a sigh.

"He does, but... It has been most difficult trying to live with myself... Not remembering anything... I wish I remembered you, Raoul. You have been so good to me, so kind..." Raoul stood up, running around the table, finally reaching my side. Turning the chair out beside me, he took his seat. "Raoul, what are you doing?"

"Lotte, maybe... Just maybe, we can spark something... Use something in my house to trigger a memory in the brain of yours and see if you start to remember anything. I truly am so happy to have you under my roof. I've dreamed of this for so many years, Christine. When I got Erik's letter telling me that you would be staying here, I got so excited, Lotte! Together again, the two of us. What do you say? Would you like to try it?" I nodded fervently, the thought of remembering my past surging through my veins. He squeezed my hands tightly, smiling like a fool. There was something about the way he held my hands, something warm and familiar. My breath escaped me as his fingertips grazed my palms, leaving my hands empty and my mind in a flurry.

"Y-Yes... I would very much like to try that, Raoul."

* * *

The harmony of the piano permeated the music room as Raoul sat beside me, playing the notes with ease. His hands moved fluidly with the melody of the vaguely recognizable song. As he finished, he turned his cheek to face me, his smile easy and his welcoming.

"Do you know the song?" He questioned, tilting his head in curiosity.

"It... I feel as though it is innate, running through me like my heart beat. Where did you hear that song, Raoul?" I told no such lies.

"You sang it as the lead soprano in Hannibal at The Opera Populaire. You were seventeen. I had heard you sing it and I was astonished to find out that the woman on stage was in fact, my Little Lotte. You taught me how to play it on piano. Does the tune spark any memory for you, anything at all?" His eyes were pleading, striving for any morsel of hope i could give him. I thought long and hard about the beautiful melody he played, trying my hardest to remember. Me, Christine Daaé, a leading soprano? "I do not know, Raoul... I feel as though that I emshould /emknow that song, but I just... cannot remember singing it. It ignites something within me, my spirit has been truly lifted."

The man stood to his feet, turning me outwards on the bench. Grabbing both of my hands he took a deep breath and smiled widely. "Raoul... I feel as though I know you, yet all I see are silhouettes of people and darkness overcoming me..." He nodded, remaining silent. With the clearing of his throat, he bent down on his knee and shook his head as if the next thing he was going to say was in complete disbelief.

_No more talk of darkness,_  
_forget these wide-eyed fears._  
_I'm here, nothing can harm you._  
_my words will warm and calm you._  
_Let me be your freedom_  
_let daylight dry your tears._  
_I'm here with you, beside you_  
_to guard you and to guide you_.

His hands reached up to cup my cheeks, the pads of his thumbs wiping away the escaped tears that fled down my cheeks. Nothing else was heard, besides the soft-panting that was emerging from my lips. I had never felt overwhelmed by such a song before, my heart was racing and my hands were trembling with this new found sensation. Shutting my eyes, pearls of tears attached themselves to my eyelashes as I opened them slowly to find The Vicomte's lips on mine, moving at a leisurely pace. I do not know what caused me to kiss back, what moved me to reciprocate my unexplored emotions in a heated kiss. His hands tenderly pulled me away from his lips, our foreheads resting upon one another's. With an exhale so close I could feel his breath slither down my neck, sending chills straight down my spine, he smiled, parting his lips to speak.

"I'm sorry, Little Lotte... You are with Erik and he gave me the responsibility to take care of you, not to kiss you." His fingers intertwined with mine, his movements negated his words. I pondered on the thought for a moment, realizing that his song rendered something deep within my memory.

"Erik is not here to stop you. Raoul, your song it sounded so familiar... I..."

"Lotte, don't strain-"

_S-Say... you'll... love me... every waking moment,_  
_turn my head... w-with talk of... summertime._  
_Say y-you need me w-with you,_  
_now and always._  
_P-Promise me all y-you say... is t-true..._  
_That's all I ask... of y-you._

* * *

| Erik |  
The blazing beat down on my body as I begrudgingly took my seat on the metal thing they pass off as a chair on the balcony. I no longer dawn the mask, as it is too heavy. The wraps that cover my face completely have been satisfactory thus far. It has been a little over two months since I left Nadir, his family, and my Christine. I stab myself in my foot everyday I think about my Christine in the care of _de Chagny_, well... I do not do that, for he certainly is not worth that pain. I knew in the back of my mind, in the very back of my mind, that he was the only person that could take care of her in her condition. I send letters often to Nadir, demanding that he makes weekly checks to Christine. Nadir needed to be with his family and I needed to figure out how they were still alive and why Afsar came after my Christine. Of course, to get to me... I would have put all my bullets in his head if I could. Residing in a tiny khune in the Yazd city, specifically in the Abar Kooh desert, high enough that no man could find me. Nudged between to mountains and raised at a high enough elevation, I take the nights and ride into town with my dear César and stake out the location where The Empress still lives. Her husband died many years ago, yet she lives remotely in a palace. The oddest part is that her husband did not die of natural causes, but was executed in a guillotine, only seven years after I fled with Nadir. No one knows why and the only people to view the execution were The Empress and Afsar Sharifi.

Turning my body violently, the sound that alerted me was not kind to my ears. Who could have _possibly_ found me up here? Grabbing my lasso, I crept towards the tiny kitchen, the noise of tea cups being shattered leading me to the damned culprit. Empty. We have a ghost on my hands. Following the sound of wind and the breeze of the curtains, I slithered down the narrow hallway. Moving towards the bathroom, the silhouette lurked behind the shower curtain as I silently glided my lasso over its neck!

"Your neck shall snap before you have the time to beg for mercy!" I seethed, pulling on the lasso./span/span/p

"Do you shave your scarred side as well or just your handsome side?" The all to recognizable voice caused me to slip and fall off the edge of the tub, knocking me unconscious as my head hit the toilet on the damned way down.

!

My eyes opened, heavily as I grabbed the side of my head in pain. The blurry figure walked towards me, causing me to draw my knife at the sight of an unknown intruder.

"Put that away before you slip and fall again." Could it be?

"D-Daroga?" Sitting up, the figure nodded, passing me a hot cup of tea. "What the hell are you doing here?! You are supposed to be in Paris with your family! How did you find me?"

"It is good to see you, too." Leaning back in the chair beside me, he smiled cheerfully as he filled a syringe with medicine. "I sent them to the de Chagny estate. They will be safe until we return." Flicking the syringe lightly, he rolled up my sleeve, only for me to flinch.

"Do _not_ dare think you are going to inject me!" Nadir rolled his eyes, grabbing my arm violently from my chest.

"It is simply to ease the pain. I had to give you stitches. It will not drug you or cause you to regurgitate bile. I see you have made quite a home for yourself. Have you found Afsar's chief, employer... What have you?" The medicine stung, shaking my head as the medicine soon disappeared into my veins.

"No, I have not. I found out some interesting things- NADIR KHAN, I CANNOT FEEL MY ARM! WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO ME?"

"Oh, calm down before you shoot needles. It is just working through your blood stream, getting to your stitches. What did you find out, my dear friend?" Cleaning the needle, he checked my vitals and smiled slightly.

"The Shah was executed about seven years after we fled from prison and the only people to view his execution were his wife and Afsar." With a nod, Nadir shrugged and took out his stethoscope.

"You have been here for almost two months and that is all you have found out, Erik? Maybe you are losing your touch." Truly, this is just a nightmare.

"_Losing_ my touch, what are you talking about?! That palace is impenetrable! I only got the information I did, because I paid someone a very large sum of money to get me some old articles about the article." With a smile, Nadir crossed his arms and raised his eyebrow.

"My boy, my boy..." He began. Erik knew that he was here to stay and he knew that there was nothing that could change that. "I made an appointment with The Empress' secretary tomorrow, for you and me. I have been here for hardly two days and already, I have accomplished more than you! This is truly a feat in and of itself!"

"Maybe _I_ should inject _you_ with some of _my_ medicine."


	19. Chapter 18

**Eighteen **

**A/N: I would like to comment on behalf of my continuity error. In chapter fifteen, I had mentioned that while Nadir and Erik were in Afsar's torture chamber, Nadir had a wife, two sons, and a daughter. Later in that chapter and the one following, I made no such mention of that daughter. I am sorry, I simply forgot. His daughter will be present from now on, my friends! Thank you again for reading and reviewing! **

* * *

_6 October 1874 _

_I did something horrible. How could I do such a thing as I did? I had no right to be so forward with The Vicomte de Chagny! Yet, he did not push me away. Why did it feel so familiar, so warm in The Vicomte's embrace? It is not meant to feel that way. I am not supposed to feel that way towards him. I am to be engaged to Monsieur Destler. I have been unfaithful. How is Erik going to ever want to marry me now? I am truly to be tossed in the streets by Erik. It is as if he knew of our kissing, too. I have not heard Erik in my dreams. It is as if he is punishing me. Oh, if only I knew where he was! I would run to him, fall to my knees, and beg for his forgiveness. He does not deserve me. He does not deserve such a wanton wife! I am despicable. _

_Tell me this then... Why does being with The Vicomte feel so right? _

* * *

"Daroga, do you just expect us to waltz into the palace? I was to be executed in front of the kingdom and you surely were sought after you helped me escape." Nadir shrugged his shoulders, flipping his pocket watch closed.

"Well, if you let me lead, we can waltz into the palace." Nadir mumbled as I rolled my eyes, buttoning up the loose fitting cotton shirt.

"There is not enough time for your stupid jokes, Daroga! Do you not have a plan?" I seethed, throwing my knife at him, just missing his head. He did not flinch.

"As a young man once told me, 'I never have a plan.' It is not as if we are talking to The Empress. We are speaking to her secretary. I am importing weaponry from America and you are my guard. It is simple, really. We are to find out if Afsar had any relations with The Empress, speaking as if he was still alive." Nadir pulled my knife out of the wall, tossing it onto the bed.

"_I_ am _your_ guard? That hardly seems fair. Nadir, I will have you know that my expertise in weaponry is far beyond your petty knowledge in lethal injections." Nadir scoffed, only wrapping a red scarf around his neck.

"And I suppose you speak Persian and read Farsi? Erik, it is best that I do the negotiating. You can stand there like a pretty princess, examining the room. You were always good at picking up the details, anyway." Anger rushed through, but I knew that Nadir's plan was nonnegotiable. Groaning, I wrapped the thick cloth around my face and tucked away my lasso.

"If you are ready then, my _liege_." The words stung as I gritted them between my teeth. "I have two horses in the stables. I assume you can ride for a few hours to the palace?"

"Will you be talking the whole time?" Shoving him out of the door, he laughed slightly, putting his coat on as the sand began to rise. "It seems as though we will be dealing with a bit of wind. Shall we take camels instead, Erik?"

"I rather be your footstool, then take a camel. I hate those animals, Daroga. I hate _them_ more, than I hate _you_." Nadir paused in his tracks, looking out towards the city beneath the hills. Grunting to himself, he pointed towards the camels.

"It is the better choice in this weather, Erik. I will drag your unconscious body onto the camel, if I have to. I do not care how much you hate me, you are getting on a camel." I stepped backwards, wary to his words. Nadir's eyes narrowed, pointing to the camels once more in one final act. "Erik Destler, if you do not get on that camel, I will write to Christine and tell you where you are, what you are doing, and why you left her. I am sure she will have a lot to say to you when she arrives her in, oh, I give her two weeks. Maybe she will bring that man, oh what is his name? Ralph de Change? Randolph de Chamber? Oh, that's right, it is Raoul de-"

"FINE, just please shut up, you pestering fool before I snap your neck!"

* * *

The palace was lavish, just as I remembered it. Marble floors and gold plated pillars were adorned throughout the foyer as the servant escorted us to the sitting room. A bust of The Shah sat in a glass casing to our left, only to awaken something bitter in my soul. Nadir asked the servant for some tea in his native tongue, making sure the servant knew he was of no harm. Once the tea was brought, the servant alerted Nadir that the secretary should be out momentarily, leaving us alone in the vast, grandiose sitting room.

"This palace got more obnoxious from last I remember..." I muttered from underneath my Keffiyeh.

"That is, because they lost their one good architect. Now, I think they have left all architectural decisions to The Empress." Nadir replied, sipping on his tea. Soon, the clanging of heels alarmed as we stood to meet an olive skinned woman, only tanned by the sun exposure she would have gotten outside. Her eyelashes were dark, her makeup heavy. Her dress was embellished with gold, her jewelry also golden. Her bright green eyes spoke to me, like she was familiar. I did not speak upon it.

"Welcome, I am Shokouh. I hope you have not been waiting long, Mr. Majidi." She gestured for us to sit across from her. She was elegant, her accent thin, but noticeable. She had a scar beneath her left eye, she had hoped to cover it with rouge.

"No, I have not. It is a pleasure to meet you." He shook her hand politely, sitting back down. "I have just gotten my tea." He smiled widely, the silence filling the room. Nudging him slightly, he moved to speak once more. "I have come on behalf of my weaponry business in America. We have spoken to one of your representatives and he led us here." She nodded understandingly, taking out a folder, more scars.

"May I ask who you spoke to?" She inquired. She had so many scars.

"Afsar, Afsar Sharifi. Is he available to speak to today? He seemed to know a lot about the work we wanted to do." She took a sharp breath, releasing the folder for a moment. Regaining her composure, she cleared her throat.

"Mr. Sharifi is no longer working for us. He passed away about three months ago. He was on a business trip and fell down a flight of stairs. He broke his neck." She glanced at me for a long moment, her green eyes peering into mine. My back stiffened at her exotic eyes, they were so familiar... "W-What did he say about the weapons you wish to trade with us?"

"He spoke of the missiles you are building. We would like to trade them with the bombers have." She nodded nonchalantly, never ripping her gaze from mine. "I know it hardly seems like a fair trade, but we examined all of... Miss Shokouh?"

All of a sudden, the green that pooled in her eyes was no longer green. The bright emerald eyes struck me harder than any lashing I had ever received. She covered her quivering mouth with her trembling hands, shaking her head furiously in denial. I sat there frozen in my seat, my eyes unwavering at the sight in front of me. Her dark tresses folded over her face as she flinched back into the couch in fear. Her gaze diverted towards Nadir, her head fervently shaking back and forth. Nadir finally realized what had happened. He stood to his feet, holding up his hands in hesitance. She flinched backward again, shielding her face with the folder, her sobs becoming intolerable. It finally registered within the both of us as we exchanged a rapid glance.

She had been abused by The Shah and that is why he was executed.

"Empress... We come to save you... You have to trust us..." Nadir cooed, trying to coax out of her shock related state. He reached for his bag, only frightening her more. "Shokouh? Is that your real name, Empress?" From behind the folder, she nodded, her cursing in Persian becoming louder. "Do you know what that means, in Persian? It means, 'splendor.' Shokouh, you are going to be alright, we are not here to hurt you..." He approached her slowly, grabbing a syringe. Nodding towards me, I slithered around to the back of the couch. I could not wrap my mind around the situation. Nadir knew there was not time to think about it. The servants would soon be back. Nadir gave me a panicked look, reaching for her legs. "Shokouh... Can you tell me something for me?" Looking at me, he held up three fingers. I nodded in agreement, as he slowly began counting.

"No! Y-You are going to hurt me! Everybody hurts me!" She shouted, her cries becoming louder. "I do not want to! It hurts!" Nadir's expression turned concerned. He had not touched her yet. He shook his head and held her breath. When he mouthed the last number, I grabbed her arms and held her down, her emerald eyes pleading for help into mine. "NO! IT HURTS! STOP! S-Stop... Please..." Her eyelids shut and soon, she was fast asleep. Nadir did not speak, for we did not have time. We quickly carried her out and looked around for horses we could steal.

"You are better at stealing things, Erik." With a frantic nod, I went on a search for two horses, only dreading our future, once we actually got the horses.

* * *

_Five Hours Later _

We had not one clue of what to do once she woke up in a stranger's house. The Empress, laid in my bed, unconscious. We drugged The Empress. My mind was reeling at a pace I did not even know it could go. She was, but a secretary. Were there men after us? Did they know that she was The Empress? Did they know of her abuse? So many questions I had for her, yet I had no idea of how to go about it. Those very emerald eyes sent me to my execution. They betrayed me, they betrayed so many. She was heartless, she murdered, she coerced, and sat there on her throne while her husband sent Innocent men, women, and even children, to _my _torture chambers. Yet, in her eyes was all the sadness of the world. Did it start before I arrived in Persia? Did it begin out of jealousy or straightforward disorder? She was so scared, shaking down to her bones. I had never seen her so vulnerable. It was as if I was looking at myself.

"H-Hello?" A small voice spoke out from the bedroom. Nadir and I stood immediately as I grabbed my Keyyifeh, her hand raising in protest. "No, this is your h-home. You should be free to do as you please." Nadir brought a chair over for her, returning from the kitchen with three cups of tea. She smiled softly, nodding politely. She was about the same age as I was, her skin scarred just as I was.

"Shokouh, if you do not wish to speak to us about-"

"You have a right to know. Mr. Desvrat, especially has the right to know of what happened to me." She sipped on her tea, entranced by its warmth. "Mr. Khan, I want to thank you for getting me out of there. Since you two left, it has been dismal and torturous, both physically, emotionally, and mentally." He nodded, glancing over to me. I did not answer. "Mr. Desvrat, I want to apologize. What I did to you... It... I think about it everyday-"

"You do not need to apologize to me, Shokouh." I answered kindly, squeezing her hand in reassuring. Her palms had scars on them. "What is done is done, the past is the past."

"No, you do not understand, Mr. Desvrat! I need to apologize! If I had no come into your room, The Shah, my husband would have killed me. He threatened me every night. He was jealous of you and your skills. He wanted you dead, but I protested. I told him that you were a good man. I told him that he could have just fired you and sent you into exile. I am sure you could have found your way! He refused me, hit me, beat me! I finally gave in as I pleaded for my life. I went into your room and I made you draw those damn drawings!" She was yelling. The teacup was shattered on the floor, the tea spilled everywhere. She covered her mouth in shock, her tears flowing from the corners from her face. "I-I'm s-s-sorry. Let me clean that..." She fell to her knees, picking up the porcelain shards. I shook my head, bringing her back up to her feet.

"Let me clean it up, Shokouh. You will get a cut. Please, sit." Kneeling in front of her, I grabbed her tremulous hands and kissed them gently. "You do not need to apologize. You have been forgiven. If it were not for you, I would have not met this _more than _wonderful man. We have been like brothers since the day he helped me escape. If it were not for you, I would have not had the life I did in Paris, I would not have had the love of my life waiting for me back at home. Shokouh, you have been forgiven. Your husband is dead, he will no longer get to you. Let us take care of you. We can get you to Paris and we can get you somewhere safe." Nadir nodded in agreement, his hands on her shoulder.

"Oh, thank you ! Thank you, thank you Mr. Desvrat!" She placed kisses of gratitude on my hands, soon returning to her chair. "I cannot escape with you, though."

"Why not?" Nadir asked, nerved.

"Afsar's men will be after me, now. I have just revealed The Palace's biggest secret." My eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she sat back in a frightened state. "Truly, I will be dead within the week, I am sure."

"What secret?" Nadir inquired once more, leaning forward. "Shokouh, you will not die, not while you are in our care." She nodded, unsure if she should trust him.

"Well, you have just kidnapped The Empress, found out about her abuse from her husband, the former Shah." She began, closing her eyes. "There is something else you should know." With a deep breath, she exhaled with a shaky indent. "Afsar is not dead."

"H-How can that be?! I shot him! _Twice_!" Nadir stood in anger, the fear in his eyes returning. My bones frozen beneath my skin as the image of my Christine came into my head. "That is impossible! I shot him in the chest and in the head! I assure you, I am a doctor and that is a definite way to kill someone!" Nadir paced the room, shaking his head in pure disbelief.

"That was not Afsar. That was one of his hit men, posing as Afsar. Afsar still lives and breathes." She glanced over at me as I sat wide eyed, paralyzed in my seat. "I am afraid that your families are still in danger. Either you bring your family here and mislead Afsar or you go back to protect your families wherever they are, I am sorry. I fear Afsar as much as you do. He has beaten me and tortured me, trying to get information, but I have assured him that I know nothing. He is ruthless. He will stop at nothing until one of you is dead and mounted on his wall."

"Me, it shall be me." Nadir stepped forward, his head hung low. My eyes painstakingly raised to The Persian as he stood in the middle of the room. Shokouh shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes. She bit her quivering lip, shutting her eyes. Her voice choked on the last nine words, shooting an excruciating pain through my whole body, stopping my heart, my world as an all consuming darkness consumed me, dragging me to a place where I had not been since I was a young boy, a place I had never imagined my Christine would be.

"No, one of you... as in Desvrat or Christine."

* * *

**A/N: **

**to the reviewer Kitkat: It was implied that after Raoul's rescue, he rested in the new lair until he was in full health. Once he was in full health, he returned to his estate. There has been a passage of time of three months. Raoul has had no idea of Christine's torture, until he gets a letter from Erik telling him that he needs to take Christine in for a while, and of course _how _can Raoul refuse? :) I'm sorry if that was unclear. **

**Thank you for reading and reviewing! This was an exciting chapter. **

**- A**


	20. Chapter 19

**Nineteen**

**A/N: Sexual violence below. **

* * *

_9 October 1874 _

_Farideh received a letter from her husband, Nadir, explaining of their whereabouts. He did not disclose a specific location, but Farideh suspects by the type of paper and ink, that Erik and Nadir are somewhere in Persia. I do not like the thought of Erik and Nadir in such a dangerous place. The letter contained classified information about an old friend they have run into that desperately needs their help, but there is an ultimatum at stake. Nadir did not mention the ultimatum. I fear that both lives are at risk, I have no choice but to go after Erik. He needs me, I can feel it in my bones. I plan on escaping in the early morning by horse, while the de Chagny household is asleep. Though I am still recovering, I will fight through the pain to get to Erik. I have already booked a passage to Italy, which will lead me to on another passage to Yazd City, a place that Farideh has talked about many times. That is the only place I know of in Persia. It is a good of a place to start as any. I do hope The Vicomte and Nadir's family do not come after me. I want to make sure Erik is safe. My Angel has saved me far too many times to count. It is time that I rescue him, whatever the ultimatum must cost. I will undergo a disguise. Unfortunately, that will cost me my brown curls, my hair. I do not want to be recognized on the ship, I fear that they will take me back to The de Chagny Estate. With my Swedish still in my mind, I hope to pass off as a Swedish citizen. i have paid a good friend from The Opera House to forge my papers a great deal of money. Whatever it takes to make sure my Angel is safe, is what I will do. I leave in six hours and shall arrive within the next week, week and a half. _

* * *

| Erik |

"I am going back to Paris to find and protect Christine, I suggest you stay here." Nadir placed his hand on my shoulder, moving my body violently away from my suitcase.

"My family lives in Paris too, Erik. I cannot stay here and wait until Afsar finds them and kills them! I am to go with you. We are bringing Shokouh with us to Paris." Nadir stated, his arms folded over his chest.

"No, Daroga! You two are to remain here. She needs someone to protect her from the men that are going to come and kill her. You are much more skilled at combat than I am. Do _not_ argue with me." Nadir pushed me against the wall, his hands tightly wound around the collar of my shirt. His eyes narrowed, his breathing erratic.

"We all leave to Paris or we all stay here. Make your choice, Destler." My jaw clenched as he released me, the soft knocking at the door distracting us. "Come in, Shokouh." The dark haired Empress made her way through the door, her eyes worried.

"I heard an awful amount of noise. Is everything okay with the two of you?" Nadir looked towards me, knowing that I was to make a choice. With a deep breath, I straightened out my shirt and grabbed my knife.

"Pack your bags and write a letter to your wife, Daroga. We are going to Paris tomorrow."

* * *

| Christine |

Raoul sat across from me, his dreadfully boring holding his attention. Farideh rested in the corner, braiding her daughter's hair, while her two boys played in the middle of the room. I grew anxious thinking of my escape plan, not knowing if it was going to fall through or not. Rising to my feet, I slowly made my way across the room.

"Lotte, you should not be walking. Where shall I take you?" Raoul's gaze was fixated upon his book as his voice beckoned from behind the pages.

"I do not need your assistance. I am going to the wash closet. I feel hot. I felt like putting a cold cloth on my neck. I will be back." Farideh raised an eyebrow at me, glancing at Raoul. "I also do not need your permission." Making my way to the wash closet, I made sure I was out of sight as I made my way to the bedroom. I grabbed a suitcase, beginning to fill it with the essentials.

"Where are you escaping off to, Christine?" Farideh's voice echoed from the door way as I closed my eyes, shutting the suitcase.

"I want to go back to my home. I do not think living with The Vicomte de Chagny has been quite appropriate for an engaged woman." Sitting down on the edge of my bed, Farideh walked towards me. "I wish to wait for Erik at _our _home and since you are not telling me anything, I find it fitting that that is the most effective option." She nodded slowly, crossing her arms over her chest in disbelief.

"Do you even know where your home is, my dear?" She smiled at my defeat, taking a seat beside me. "My dear, I assure you that Erik is safe. You need not to worry about him. He would not send you here if he thought it was unsafe. The Vicomte de Chagny cares greatly for you and I am sure he would not like the thought of you running off in the middle of the night." I had to get this woman off of my trail.

"Oh my, it seems as though you have caught me. I do not wish to go home..." I folded my hands in my lap, looking down at the floor. "I fear that Erik will be angry with me upon his return. I do not want to be here when he returns..."

"My dear, I do not think Erik could _ever _be mad at you. Why do you suppose that?" I shrugged my shoulders, playing with the lace of my dress.

"I did something terrible, Farideh." With a deep breath, I closed my eyes and braced myself for a lashing. "I kissed The Vicomte de Chagny, though he did not stop me. We have kissed multiple times." We remained silent, the breeze roaming through the trees creating a haunting ambiance. "Farideh?"

"Running away from your problems will not solve them. I am sure Erik will understand. If you run away, he is sure to have The Vicomte's head mounted on his wall... And I am sure you do not want that." She rose to her feet, placing a kiss on my forehead. She left my room, closing the door, leaving me to decide my own fate. Oh, how I hate decisions!

_3:19am _

The chilly Paris air hit my neck as I covered my head in a deep blue satin cloak. It felt odd not having long hair. Wandering down the street, I grabbed my suitcase and made my way down the cobblestone road. Keeping my head down, I went to the stables, looking for a carriage. I thought it would be impossible to get a carriage this early in the morning, but I was wrong. Giving them 300 francs, they led me to the train station where I was to wait for the train that was to arrive at sunrise. The train station was surprisingly, not empty. Bringing my suitcase into the bathroom. I removed my cloak, hoping to wash my face. My face looked more narrow without my long hair, cascading over my shoulders. Now, a barely past my ears, the chocolate curls were awry as I ran the cold water between my fingers, praying that Erik would remain safe until I got there. The cold crystals soothed me as I took deep breaths, trying to clear my thoughts of any possible danger.

"Well, look what we 'ave 'ere!" A man who was overweight and smelled of liquor burst through the door, his shirt un-tucked as a two other men came in behind him. "Lass, you look lost!"

"I assure you Messieurs, I mean no trouble." I began to reach for my suitcase, only to be stopped by the taller man, his hand grasping my wrist. His nails began to dig into my skin as his alcoholic breath trickled down my throat. "P-Please, take all my money! I do not want to cause any t-trouble!" The lanky man reached out his hand, grabbing my breast with a ferocity that caused me great pain.

"She seems lonely, boys!" The large man laughed, stepping closer to me. His hand came across my cheek with great force, his laugh growing louder. "I promise we won't hurt ya! It'll be a big load of fun! Pin 'er down, boys!" My head hit the floor, the lanky man's tongue deep in my mouth.

"You taste lovely..." He dragged on the last word, his hands tearing at my dress. I shut my eyes, praying that this could not be happening to me. "Look at me, whore!" Another slap across my face. A cool breeze hit my legs as the large man shoved my dress up, pulling down my undergarments in a rough motion.

"You look great, m'dear!" The sound of his belt unbuckling caused me to jerk uncontrollably, the third man's hands throwing his hands to my ribs, holding me down to the cold tile. "Feisty one! Why don't you gag her?" I shook my head, my tears streaming down my face. Soon the third man took off his tie, shoving it in my mouth, tying it behind my head.

"Hurry up, I 'ant a turn!" The hefty man nodded, putting his legs on either side of me, his hands forcing my hips down onto the ground. Soon, an unbearable pain ripped through my body as he thrusted into me, his grunts and curses becoming muffled with my tears. The man whose hands were on my ribs began to grope me, viciously, sure to leave bruises. Biting at my neck, I could feel my blood trickle down my neck.

"That's a good girl..." He groaned, his nails digging into my hips. My body thrashed upwards, his force was so great as my body tore with an unbearable pain.

"HEY! GET OFF OF HER!" An unrecognizable voice shouted. I closed my eyes, the pain beneath my legs throbbing in an insufferable amount of agony. I was sure I was hyperventilating. "DO NOT MAKE ME STAB YOU, I WILL YOU STUPID FUCKS!" There were loud noises, I did not dare open my eyes. There was shouting and sound of glass shattering. I only wished that Erik was here. Oh, Erik... I am sorry!

_7:53am _

My eyes opened with great terror, oh what horrors awaited me! The carriage of the train was moving, my body sore in places I did not dare talk about. My dress was torn and my mouth was dry. Beside me, an unfamiliar man sat with a newspaper. He was taller, jet black hair, and piercing blue eyes. Flinching backwards into the seat, he quickly knelt before me.

"It is okay, Madame... I am Jack. I rescued you from the bathroom... You are hurt, you should not make sudden movements." His touch was gentle, his eyes holding true to his word. "Let me help you, Madame." I sat up in pain. Wrapping his coat around me, he handed me a cup of tea. "How do you feel, Madame?"

"I..." I glanced down at my arms, my chest, there were so many purple bruises and bite marks. "I... I was..." He nodded slowly, his eyes saddened.

"Those men are going to jail for what they did to you, Madame. You are safe with me, I assure you. What is your name? Your true name, I mean. I told the conductor that you were my wife. It was the only way they would let you on the train." My eyes met with his blue eyes, unable to form words. He was so kind, so humble.

"My name is..." I paused, debating my options. "My name is Cecily. Cecily Desmaund... And you are?" I knew truly it was better that I did not give him my true identity. My goal was to get to Erik. Oh, Erik...

"I am Jack Wallace." Kissing my hand gently, he smiled radiantly, his eyes searching my face. "I brought you your suitcase, if you would like to change clothes. Your dress is torn. I didn't want to change you, Madame."

"I am not a Madame, Monsieur Wallace." I blushed softly at his kindness as he grabbed my suitcase from the compartment above. "You are American?"

"Yes, I am. I have been studying botany in Italy for three years, now. I was in Paris for a convention." He paused, standing to his feet. His hands were large, worn at the knuckles. "I am glad I was in Paris when I was." He approached the door, opening it to depart. "I will be in the hallway, waiting until you are finished." I nodded slowly, standing to my feet, meeting his ice-blue gaze.

"Thank you Monsieur Wallace, truly. You saved my life. I owe you mine, in return." He shrugged his shoulders, a soft smile spreading across his face.

"Just remember, if anybody asks, you are Madame Wallace. It is not as bad as it sounds, I promise you." With a wink, the mysterious blue-eyed hero escaped into the hallway, leaving me to change into a new dress, to discard of the horrible memories forever.

* * *

| Raoul |

"What do you mean she is _gone?_" I shouted at the lady's maid. My mind was going in circles, every which way. Erik was going to have my head, then he was going to chop up my body in tiny square pieces and throw them into the lake! "You have checked everywhere?" The lady's maid nodded, the urgency in her eyes as great as mine. I grabbed my hair, my heart racing. "_Mon Dieu..._"

"She could not have gotten far, Monsieur le Vicomte." Farideh's voice was calm, oh how could she be calm at a time like this! "She is weak and could not have walked far. Unless... She went by horse."

"Madame Khan, I assure you it is not time for tricks or jokes. If you know of her whereabouts, I suggest you tell me right now before her fiancée and your husband have both of our heads!" I screamed at the Persian woman.

"Do _not _shout at me! If I knew of her whereabouts, I would be out looking for her, just as anyone else would be!"

"I am sorry... I am just frustrated. _Why_ in God's name would she leave?" I sat down in the chair beside me, completely defeat and destroyed. Christine, Christine... Farideh stood before me, her brown eyes bearing into my soul. With a raise of an eyebrow, she folded her arms and took one final glance into my eyes, scaring me half way out of my flesh.

"Maybe she was afraid of Erik finding out of her unfaithful acts. Would not you be?"


	21. Chapter 20

**Twenty **

* * *

_10 October 1874 _

_Jack Wallace, an American, has been of a great help to me. He is about six foot I would say, maybe even taller. He has these bright blue eyes that I have never seen before, they are simply mystifying. I shall not speak of the horrendous incident that procured in the bathroom at the train station, all I know is that I owe Monsieur Wallace my life. We are en route to Italy, from there Monsieur Wallace and I should part ways. From there, he is to go to Africa for more botany studies. He is quite intelligent, the way he speaks makes me miss Erik deeply. It has been more than a pleasure to share this time with Monsieur Wallace and I wish him well when we part. I imagine that there is complete chaos at the de Chagny Estate since my escape. I cannot imagine what is going through Raoul's head right now. He has probably gone mad searching for me. I do wish that he would allow me this one freedom. He speaks of the wrath of Erik, as if Erik would ever harm a fly. Erik is kind and gentle, his touch like that of a feather. I cannot imagine him getting angry. Nadir and Erik will soon be safe as I arrive in Persia. I just hope I arrive there in time. _

* * *

| Christine |

"What is an unmarried woman doing on a train by herself to Italy?" The American accent echoed in the tiny carriage as I sighed softly to myself. My body still ached and I was unsure of the lower half of my body, too frightened to check.

"I am an opera singer... I have an audition there. Tell me, do you have a mistress or are you engaged to be married?" He was taken aback by my words, leaving me in confusion.

"Mistress?" I nodded slowly, trying to figure why he was so offended by the term. "I am not married, but I assure you I would be no adulterer if I was married!"

"I was not insinuating that you are one! Oh Monsieur, I am afraid we are mis-communicating." With a deep breath, I started over with my sentence. "In Paris, a mistress is simply a woman who is committed to a man without the obligation of wearing a ring. I believe where _you _are from, it implies a negative connotation. I was simply asking if you were committed to someone or not. My sincerest apologies, Monsieur Wallace." He smiled in forgiveness, grabbing another strawberry.

"I had a girlfriend for a long time, but we did not see eye-to-eye on marriage. I was ready for marriage and she was not. Sometimes, things don't work out like you plan." He paused, biting into the succulent strawberry, smiling at its tart taste. "You told me that you weren't a Madame. Are you seeing someone?"

"It is complicated, my situation." I breathed out, thoughts of Erik and Raoul flooding to my mind.

"We have a long train ride, entertain me." He put down the plate of strawberries, wiping his mouth with the towelette. "Start from the very beginning, if you'd like."

"There is not much to tell you, Monsieur. I am simply a young woman who as endured much pain, who is simply searching for the right answer." He raised his eye brow, leaning in inquisitively.

"And pray tell, what is the question in which you are searching the answer for, Cecily?"

"Who am I?"

* * *

| Raoul |

The Vicomte de Chagny's head was spinning, his hair falling out in chunks at a time. It had been a day, almost two since Christine's disappearance and still, she had not returned. Another letter had arrived explaining that Nadir, Erik, and another guest would be arriving in one week's time, giving him five days to retrieve Christine. She could not have gone far, no. With how injured she was, she could not have gotten far, even by horse. She does not know the city of Paris as well as she thinks she does. She cannot speak any other languages besides French, English, and a bit of Swedish. She does not have a large sum of money, only what Erik left with me before he departed to Persia. It was only about five thousand francs... Enough for a passage ticket. Oh God, Christine!

"Where in _God's _name where she would go on a train?" I shouted into the air, mad at my own despair. Farideh's hand rested on my shoulder, trying to calm my heightened nerves.

"If that is the question you are posing, she could go as far as America with the money her betrothed left her, Monsieur le Vicomte." I groaned in response, worrying for Christine's well being. "I spoke to her the night of her disappearance, Vicomte." I stood to my feet, grabbing her lightly by the shoulders.

"Did she anything about where she was going, Farideh?" She shook her head, picking off my hands, finger by finger. "I apologize. What did she say to you?" Farideh gestured for us to sit on the divan together, worrying me even more so. "What is it? Is it bad? Is she hurt?"

"No, no Monsieur. I assure you that it was _she _that instilled this information, I did not pry into her personal life. Do you understand?" I nodded fervently, desperately wanting her to continue. "Monsieur, I know of your kisses with Christine." She stared off into the distance, her hands folded into her lap. "She was afraid that when Erik would return, he would get angry with her. She spoke of escaping, but the tone in her voice was childish and I did not think she would go through with it. She knew that it was a foolish idea. She spoke of running away to her home, but I do not think she knows where that is and truly, if she has enough money to book a passage to America, she would choose the lesser of two evils." Suddenly, the thought of Erik getting angry at Christine painted my imagination. His angry eyes, his violent temper. No, he would not dare lay a hand on Christine...

"I kissed her first, it is all my fault and I will take full responsibility for it... But my first priority is to get Christine back home before he returns. He will be more angry if he returns and she is nowhere to be find. A couple of kisses will not be anything to comparison to the wrath I will endure once he notices that his Christine is on a ship to only God knows where." Running another hand through my hair, I stood up and rubbed my eyes, my exhaustion finally catching up to me. "Are you sure you swept her room Miss-"

"Vicomte! Vicomte!" A deep voice bellowed from the hallway. As his tailcoats followed, the valet Jean-Marc ran into the room, carrying a waste bask. "Vicomte, I am sorry to interrupt you, but I think you should look inside this waste basket."

"Jean-Marc, I assure you, nothing of importance would be discarded inside of a waste basket." I replied, annoyed to the brim.

"Monsieur le Vicomte, trust me." He placed the waste basket on the table out of breath, stepping back next to Miss Lorraine. Stepping forward, my eyes widened at the horrendous sight. A pile of Christine's hair laid at the bottom of the basket. Her curls lay dead, strewn about the basket, cut from her angelic head.

"She... She cut her hair, her precious chocolate curls... Such a minx she is!" Throwing the waste basket against the wall in anger, my fists balled in frustration.

"Monsieur, I looked through her dresser and it seems that her blue sating cloak is missing." Miss Betsy alerted me, quietly as I crouched down in despair. Soon, Farideh's warm touch caressed my cheek.

"We will find her, Vicomte." Her hand reached out to help me to my feet, her hazel eyes pleading and reassuring. As I rose to my feet, Miss Betsy rose her hand in curiosity.

"Miss Betsy, do you have anything else to say?" She nodded, stepping forward. "Go on with it, then."

"I was changing the linens on her bed and it seems as though she left a letter for you, Madame Khan. It fell to the floor and underneath the bed. I could not find it until I was sweeping. I have it here." Miss Betsey handed the single sheet of paper to Farideh. Anxiously, Farideh scanned the letter with hurried eyes.

_Farideh, _

_If you are reading this, then I assure you I am already gone. I have booked a passage to Italy. Do not come after me. From Italy, I am to go to Yazd City to go after Erik and Nadir. I fear they are in grave danger and I must go to protect them. I do not know why I feel such a strong innate pull towards Erik, but I am willing to give my life for him. The first thing you should know is that I have cut my hair and changed my name. You will not be able to find me that easily, my sister. I beg of you, do not breathe a word of this to The Vicomte de Chagny. It is upon my own decisions that I am going to Persia to seek out Erik and Nadir. I will be there in a week's notice. Thank you for all you have done and please, keep The Vicomte safe. Tell him I have returned home and I am awaiting Erik's return there. I thank him deeply for the care he has provided me. I will write to you as soon as I reach Italy. _

_Christine _

_Do not come after me._

Farideh dropped the letter to the ground, her eyes wide with fear. She stumbled backwards, shaking her head in disbelief, mumbling a string of curses leaving her lips. Her sons ran to her, clinging on to her hips. It happened so fast, her daughter crying in the wooden crib in the corner. Her family sensed her trepidation, her numbness. Bending down to pick up the letter, she sat frozen, muffled in her sobs. Her sons consoled her in their native language, trying to get her to calm down. A girl like Christine should not be bracing a place like that alone. Erik is sure to have my head. I stood, my mouth in a tight line, my jaw clenched, and my blood boiling. I have to go after her, that is the only option. She cannot brace the world alone. She needs me there, beside her. I must be there with her. Wherever she goes, is where I shall follow.

_Persia._

* * *

| Jack |

"Okay, do tell me another one of your stories, Monsieur Wallace!" Christine's infamous giggle rang throughout private room, her blue eyes lighting up as she clapped in excitement. Her cream colored skin glowed in the sunset light as the train moved slightly, her smile wide in happiness.

"I have no more to tell you! You've heard all my stories, Mademoiselle Desmaund... And please, call me Jack." She blushed once again, leaning back on the bench.

"Then you shall call me, Chri- Cecily. Christine is, but my middle name. Do you have a middle name, Jack? I bet it is a wonderful middle name." She tilted her head, resting her chin on her knees.

"My middle name is Bernard. Jackson Bernard Wallace, it's quite dull if you ask me. I like your middle name, much better. You said you sing, right?" She nodded as I stood to my feet. I searched through my luggage in the overhead compartment, finally reaching my guitar. "I sing too, probably not as great as you, though. I sing in my free time." She sat up eagerly, tracing the strings of my guitar with her tiny fingertips.

"I bet you are a magnificent singer. Will you sing for me, Jack?" I nodded hesitantly, tuning my guitar. A small smile spread across her face as she continually to listen intently to my tuning.

"I know just the song, Cecily. You have to promise me something, though."

"Anything, Jack." Her voice was sincere, her eyes honest. With a nod, I leaned back and rested the guitar on my knee. Clearing my throat, I glanced down at the worn wooden guitar and smiled to myself.

"You can't make fun of me."

_"Blue eyes, baby's got blue eyes like a deep blue sea, on a blue blue day. _

_Blue eyes, baby's got blue eyes. _

_When the morning comes, I'll be far away and I say:_

_Blue eyes, holding back the tears, holding back the pain. _

_Baby's got blue eyes and she's alone again._

_Blue eyes, baby's got blue eyes like a clear blue sky, watching over me. _

_Blue eyes, I love blue eyes. _

_When I'm by her side, where I long to be, I will see:_

_Blue eyes laughing in the sun, laughing in the rain. _

_Baby's got blue eyes and I am home, and I am home _

_again."_

* * *

**A/N: **

**Obviously, Elton John was not alive in the 1870s... But I love this song and I saw it fitting. **

**I don't own this song. **

**Read & Review! **

**- A**


	22. Chapter 21

**Twenty One**

**A/N: A little Jack/Christine fluff for you.**

**Sorry for the late update, but I promise this chapter is worth it. **

* * *

_11 October 1874 _

_All I have time to write is that I wish Jack and I did not have to part in Italy. Maybe he could accompany me to Persia? Oh, that would be wonderful! Surely, Erik would not mind that I would have a protector. I could propose the thought at breakfast today. Yes, I think I might. I cannot possibly leave Jack behind, he cannot go to America. I would miss him too much. I owe him my life. It is as simple as that. The least I could do is offer him more time with me, right? It would not do any harm. If he should not be needed immediately back in America, he could spend time with me in Persia. Yes, that will be the next step. _

* * *

| Jack |

Christine's infamous blue eyes peered at me from underneath her luscious lashes as she spread the creamy butter onto her toast. We only had one more day together and I intended on making the most of it. Her smile was infectious, her touch was enthralling, and her voice, oh her voice! When she sang, I knew the pearly gates of Heaven opened... I knew I was home. I wanted to spend every waking moment telling her that she was beautiful, that she meant the world to me. I wanted to give her everything I had, I wanted to whisk her away to America and... And... make her my wife! Oh, for Christine to be my wife would make me so happy... It would make me the happiest man alive! Oh, if only she knew my thoughts. Maybe she wouldn't approve, but it's the little glimmer of hope that she would approve that helps me make it through the night.

"Jack?" Christine's voice called out to me, her heading tilting in confusion.

"Sorry, I was thinking... What did you say?" Awkwardly, I began rolling up the sleeves up my shirt, preparing to eat my breakfast.

"It is unimportant. What were you thinking about, Jack?" I took a sharp breath in, pausing in my actions.

"You." She dropped her piece of unfinished toast onto the plate, her fingers twitching in surprise. "I'm sorry... I shouldn't have said anything..." She sat silently, trying to rearrange her plate of fruit that got misplaced as she dropped her toast. "Just forget I said anything. I will be back in the room if you need me." Standing to my feet, I grabbed my coat and stood to my feet. Her eyes were large, her expression undeniably perplexed. As I began walking away in shame, a grasp around my wrist, tugging me back to the table. Her blue eyes peered into mine, her face moving slightly in minuscule mannerisms, only someone focusing on another's face would pick up on wold see.

"Jack, wait... I feel as though we should speak. Please, join me for the rest of breakfast." With a polite nod, I took my seat and stared down at the full plate of crêpes in front of me. "Why have you been thinking about me?" Her question took me aback as she cut her fruit into smaller pieces, never breaking eye contact with me.

"Your voice, your curls... Your lips... They all have me under some kind of spell, Christine. Ever since I rescued you from that bathroom, I can't seem to get you off of my mind. I don't want us to part in Italy tomorrow. I don't want to go back to America knowing that you're not coming with me." She blushed deeply, halting in her actions. Grabbing her hands, her eyes met mine in a desperate plea. "Come away to America with me, forever. We can get married and you can sing while I play guitar. Christine, it's perfect. Come with me... We'll be so happy. Can't you see it? Both of us, in America together? You told me that you weren't seeing anyone and I'm not seeing anyone... it's perfect..." I mumbled, her eyes confused.

"Jack, I have to... Jack... I must go to Persia, I cannot leave Erik there..." She whispered, pulling her hands from mine.

"What? Who is Erik?" She shook her head, sinking down into her seat. "Christine, you have to think about this. I can make you happy. Persia is dangerous, you could be killed there. I'm sure whoever this Erik guy is, that he can take care of himself. Please, come with me... I can take care of you, please..."

"Jack... Do you know what you are asking of me? You are asking me to runaway from my family, from my friends! You are asking me to be your wife!" She cried back, her eyes fleeting to her face. "I cannot leave Erik in that place alone! He needs me and I need him." She peered down at her lap, wiping her tears away with her napkin. "Jack, I cannot marry you... It is not in our future that we will ever be husband and wife." With a pause, a silence fell over our table. Suddenly, a wide smile spread across her face. "Jack, come with me to Persia. If you must leave to America in haste, then so be it... But, if you do not need to go back there immediately, come to Persia with me. We can spend more time together and you can help me find Erik. I would like the company. Jack, that is the best compromise I can make. I cannot go to America with you... I have to go to Persia, but if you come with me, we do not have to part in Italy tomorrow." I sat there, trying to weigh options. She didn't speak of Erik in a romantic way, for all I know, he could be her brother. I had no need to go back to America, the convention was over and done with in Paris. Thinking to myself, I took a deep breath and smiled softly.

"I will go with you to Persia, though... I don't know anything about the place." She grinned, her eyes bright and hopeful.

"I guess that makes two of us."

* * *

| Raoul |

Farideh had put her children to bed, leaving the two of us in the library, trying to track down Christine. We had not stopped since the day of her disappearance. I had four days left until Erik returned with Nadir and still, no sign of Christine. She had not bothered to write us or to give any signal of where she could be headed. My head was rolling with agony. How could I lose her! Farideh clearly saw my frustration as she approached me with a tray of tea. She told me that it was some sort of calming tea. Until Christine was found, there would be nothing strong enough to calm me.

"God, what have I done?" I groaned, discarding my jacket on the chair. Taking a sip of the hot tea, I closed my eyes as the hot liquid made its seething way down the caverns of my throat. "Erik is going to kill me."

"No, he will not. It was her will and once Nadir speaks to him, he will be fine. Do not take blame for it. That just puts more stress on you than you need right now. Drink the tea and go have a good night's rest. I fear you have not had one in a long time." Her hand circled my back as she stood to her feet. "You are going to push yourself to exhaustion, Vicomte. That is no such state to be in when searching for a runaway, my dear." With a wink, Farideh escaped into the night, probably heading to bed. Sighing to myself, I finished the cup of tea, making my way to Christine's bedroom.

There had to be some sort of evidence of where she was going! She is not that smart, she could barely remember her own name! Walking towards to her desk, I rummaged through her papers, finding nothing that was of importance. Groaning in desperation, I slammed my fist onto the desk. To my surprise, a letter fell from underneath the desk. The wax was sealed and unopened, addressed to Erik in Christine's handwriting. It must have been hung underneath the desk by wax or a string. I sat on the bench, contemplating if I should open the letter. It could lead me to Christine or it could expose very important information that I am not meant to find. If I were Erik and I saw a hidden letter addressed to me in Christine's handwriting... What would I do?

_'I would open the letter, you fop!' _Erik's voice proceeded to permeate the bedroom from out of nothing, causing me to fall off of the desk bench. _'Oh, get up and dust yourself off, Monsieur le Vicomte.' _He sneered. My mind was spinning!

"E-Erik...? Is that you?" I whispered, ducking down from... I don't quite know what? "Have you returned from Persia, then?"

_'Does is seem as though that I have returned from Persia? Do I have a suitcase and Nadir by the ear, Monsieur le Vicomte?' _Erik scoffed, surely rolling his eyes.

_'I resent that assumption, Destler.' _Nadir commented, less than amused. I laughed a bit, entertained at the one person that could stand Erik's company. Truly, Monsieur Khan was a God-send to Erik.

_'Not as much as I resent you, my brother. Now, Monsieur le Vicomte... Where was I?' _Erik hummed to himself, pausing mid thought. _'Oh! I remember now, Monsieur. I was planning ways to kill you.' _His voice was gravelly, mystical in a way. I swallowed hard, trying to ignore the fate that awaited me. _'I see you have done more than an excellent job keeping track of my Christine. Where is she by the way?' _His voice was humorous. How could he know she was missing, if he was not here? Yet again, how could I be conversing with him... If he is not here...? Oh, God I must be going mad!

"She is away at the moment. She should be b-back upon your arrival, I am sure of it." I nodded, unsure of his response. Time ticked by while a silence loomed over me.

_'Ow! Why did you just strike me?' _Nadir finally shouted. _'It is not my fault that The Vicomte lost your Christine.' _

_'Well, I cannot quite strike The Vicomte from where we are, Nadir. No, I am saving something much better for our friend, Monsieur le Vicomte.' _He laughed loudly, apologizing to his brother, Nadir. _'I am sorry for hitting you, although I did find it quite humorous... Your pain that is.' _

_'Yes, pain is funny... Nadir's pain is so funny-"_

_'Who are you two talking to at this time of day?' _A female voice spoke interrupted, surprising me greatly. I wondered if Erik was having an affair. _'Nadir, I told you to make sure Erik was not messing around and Erik, you should not be doing things such as this, you know better. This is a time of great peril. We cannot risk anything!' _Her accent was thick, but I couldn't quite tell her nation of origin.

_'In the name of Allah, will both of you quit hitting me?' _Nadir yelped, the sound of something being knocked over caused me to stumble backwards onto Christine's bed. _'This is our friend Shokouh. We are speaking to The Vicomte de Chagny. He is taking care of my family and was supposed to be taking care of Christine, Erik's fiancée.' _Shoukouh hummed in approval, her voice fading out from the conversation.

"Why are you coming to me now, all of sudden? If you know she is missing, why haven't you gone looking for her yourself?" I inquired, most interested in their overseas endeavors. "I mean, if you have the possibility of... Ventriloquy, I suppose you can call this... Why have you not spoke to her yourself?"

_'Monsieur le Vicomte, I am not capable of communicating at all times. This is a rarity, you see. I saw the opportunity and I took it. Ventriloquy is not hard to master, but throwing your voice from thousands of miles away is an art. Now, determining whether I am actually miles away or right outside your window, is entirely up to your tin brain. Something you have yet to learn.' _Erik cleared his throat, pausing momentarily. _'Now, Monsieur listen to me very carefully as I will only tell you this once. You will either open that letter or not, you can only seal your fate. Open that letter or not, I will still have your head mounted on my wall for losing my Christine. You have three seconds to make up your mind. Make your choice.' _

* * *

**A/N: **

**i am sorry for such a short chapter, I am so busy with doctor's appointments and moving. ): **

**thank you for reading though! **

**I love you all! **


	23. Chapter 22

**Twenty Two**

_The Journey to Persia_

* * *

_13 October 1874 _

_It is a good thing Jack decided to come with me on the passage to Persia. I do not know what I would do without him. It is cramped, it smells like something died fifteen years ago, and I have not felt well since we boarded this ship. Poor thing, he has been obliged to take care of me for the past two days. I told him that I could take care of myself, but he would not budge. He told me that he had a younger sister and she was very sick with Scarlet Fever. She passed away, but while she was sick, Jack took care of her day and night. Her name was Clementine. From what he has told me, she was the complete opposite. She had brown eyes, long blonde hair, and freckles everywhere. He showed me a photograph he carried in his coat pocket everywhere for good luck. She was beautiful. He tells me stories of their American adventures whenever he feeds me soup from the kitchen; rancid tasting soup, that is. I often think about writing to Erik, wondering if he would get my letter. I wonder if he is thinking about me in Persia. I hope that he and Nadir are safe. I hope that Erik still loves me... I hope he still loves me, just as I still love him._

_Nothing matters more to me than Erik. Nothing..._

* * *

| Christine |

"Jack, you do not have to fluff my pillows and make sure everything is at a ninety degree angle every single time you check on me." I croaked, my throat hot and crowded with a sickness that I did not want to feel any longer. The ice blue eyes peered at me from the corner of the bathroom as he wrung the water out of the cold washcloth over the sink.

"You are running a fever, Christine. It can't hurt if you're comfortable." He smiled widely, walking over with the damp cloth. Pulling up the chair beside the bed, he instructed me to lean back on the now-fluffy pillows. "Here, this cloth will feel nice on your skin. You're burning up, Christine." He lay the wet cloth on my forehead, sighing to himself. "Why are you going to Persia?"

"Erik is in Persia." I simply stated.

"You still haven't told me about this Erik guy, Christine." Jack sounded annoyed. He leaned back in his chair, rubbing the tiredness from his eyes. "Is she someone I should be afraid of, be threatened by? I mean, come on Christine... What is this between us? I'm on a ship with a girl I've known for a week, heading to Persia to find some guy named Erik. You aren't exactly telling me everything. Don't you think you owe me some sort of an explanation?" I sat up, taken aback by his sudden urgency.

"I had no idea you felt this way, Jack..." I folded my hands in my lap, closing my eyes. "Erik is not a threat, unless you give him a reason to threaten you. He is very protective over me, you see. He cares for me deeply... He does not know I am coming for him, but I feared for his safety. He wrote me an ambiguous letter months ago and ever since then, he has been in Persia. He sent me to my old friend's estate to recover from an accident I encountered. Nadir Khan, Erik's longtime friend is accompanying him in Persia. He wrote a letter to his wife who also was staying with me at the estate and she explained to me that Erik and Nadir were in Persia. From what I learned from Nadir's wife, Persia is dangerous and their business in Persia is not of the safest matters. I am scared that I am going to lose Erik... I cannot lose him, he knows everything about me. He is the only one who can tell me who I am." Jack narrowed his eyes at me in anger, his eyebrows furrowing inward towards me.

"Christine, you don't need a man to tell you who you are! Whoever this Erik guy is, he shouldn't be telling you who _can_ be and you _can't_ be!" He was shouting. I flinched from his harsh words, my eyes shutting in fright.

"You do not understand! I do need him, Jack! He is the answer to all my questions!" I screamed back, my head pounding in the caverns of my skull. "YOU WILL NEVER UNDERSTAND!"

"Then _help_ me understand!" I shook my head viciously, trying to calm myself down. His voice was bouncing off the walls of the bedroom as the ship tossed his body from side to side. "What is so damn special about this guy?!"

"Fiancé... He is my fiancé." Jack stumbled backwards, grabbing onto the gold railing above the port side window. "Jack, the reason why I need Erik... The reason why I have to go after him is, because I do not remember anything from my past. I do not remember anything besides waking up in a strange hotel and Madame Khan handing me a letter telling me that Erik has disappeared. I do not remember who I am, where I was born... My father or mother... I do not remember anything about myself. Erik is the only person who can answer the questions about myself. I am not even sure I want to marry him... But I know I have to find him. I know I have to find out who I am... And I can only do that if I have Erik. I can only do that if Erik is beside me, not all the way in Persia."

Jack stood still for what seemed like a thousand years, his ice blue eyes wider than I had ever seen him. He tried comprehending the information I had just relayed to him, but I could tell that his mind was stumbling over itself, running into walls and falling down, trying to pick up the pieces of my puzzle. His face was stoic, unnerving to me as he took a seat beside me, motionless. He spoke no words, he just sat there staring off into the distance. With multiple blinks, his gaze met mine with a loud exhale.

"What do you _mean_ you can't remember anything? Do you have amnesia?" His voice was cold, harsh.

"Farideh, Nadir's wife, tells me that I was drugged and it is a temporary amnesia. She says it is better that I do not remember my past." My voice was down to a whisper, frightened of his new found undertone.

"Why did she say that? What happened to you?" It was a offsetting question, his tone unbecoming to the mood of the room. "Were you abused or something?"

"Tortured..." I shrugged my shoulders as his expression turned confused, skeptical. "She told me that when she first saw me, I was naked and there were shards of glass shoved into my stomach. I was bleeding profusely and..." I swallowed hard, trying to hold back the fierce tears that wanted to force themselves down my cheeks.

"And?" Sharp.

"I was being tortured in front of Erik and Nadir ended up shooting the man in twice, I guess. That was not the first time I have been tortured, though... It was the first time that got me to lose my memory." Jack ran a disorientated hand through his jet black hair, laughing at the nonsensical information I was giving him. "What?" I asked.

"You want to go after this Erik guy? He clearly is dangerous and if you've been violently tortured twice _because _of him, you shouldn't be going back to him, Christine. He's a bad guy and he hangs out with the wrong kind of people. Whoever held you captive and tortured you for their own sick pleasure in front of Erik, is just going to keep chasing after you until they get what they want from Erik. Let me tell you something, if I'm reading this situation correctly, what they want from Erik isn't money... It's probably his life."

"NO! That is not true! He has done nothing wrong!" I cried back, trying to drown out Jack's voice.

"He is probably a felon or murderer. No one takes someone's fiancée, tortures them, and gives them temporary amnesia for nothing, Christine. He obviously owes this boss man something, but now... They aren't going to wait around for a payment, they are just going to take it from him."

* * *

| Erik |

"Monsieur le Vicomte will be just thrilled to see that we have been here for over three days. He has been going mad trying to look for Christine." Nadir spoke plainly as we approached the grandiose doors of the de Chagny estate. "Of course, I do not think you plan on telling him that, do you?"

"I do not, but if you do not shut you mouth, I do not think you will be able to resist the temptation." I glanced over to Shokouh who smiled softly, adjusting her gloves. "Shall we dance?" Knocking on the door, we waited for one of the servants to open the door. We were pleasantly surprised. "Well, Vicomte, what a nice surprise." His eyes were wide, his hair awry.

"E-Erik! What a great surprise! Please c-come in, my friends." He ushered us into the estate, grabbing Nadir's coat. "I am Raoul de Chagny, but please just call me Raoul." Shaking Shokouh's hand, the Vicomte escorted us to the sitting room. "I will get us some tea. I suppose you would like to see your family, Monsieur Khan." Nadir nodded excitedly as the sound of multiple pairs of feet interrupted Raoul.

"My family!" Nadir's sons ran in, hugging Nadir tightly. Soon following, Farideh and their daughter walked in behind their sons. "My two favorite girls." With a quick peck on the cheek, Nadir picked up his daughter with a wide smile. "Jezibel, my love." His daughter clung to her father with desperation as he took a seat on the large couch. Looking at the family reunion, I could not help but feel lonely. Raoul returned with a tray of tea, placing it on the small table in the middle of the room. "Thank you Vicomte."

"Mademoiselle Shokouh, would you like a fan? I know it is quite stuffy in here." She politely declined, remaining silent. Raoul nodded, sitting across from Nadir and myself. "I take it you are wondering where Christine is..."

"Such a mind reader you are, Monsieur le Vicomte." He chuckled nervously, pouring himself a cup of tea. "Did you open that letter, Monsieur le Vicomte?"

"No. I have it for you, here. I figured you would want to read it yourself." Raoul handed me the sealed letter, sighing with distress. "I know where she went, Messieurs. I intend on going after her, to find her." Scoffing at his inclinations, I tore the letter open with curiosity.

"My Dear Erik," I began.

_My Dear Erik, _

_I have done something beyond forgiveness. You must understand that I have no recollection of who I am or where I am. Everything that seems remotely familiar, seems to fade away into a darkness that I cannot see into, that engulfs me, confuses me even more so than I am now. I guess now is a better time than ever to tell you that I have committed an adulterous acts, many acts. I have shared many passionate kisses with Monsieur de Chagny. We have shared a bed, but I assure you we have not shared anything sexual together in bed. We simply just slept in the same bed. I was lonely, Erik. I did not know where you were, you disappeared out of nowhere. The Vicomte was kind to me. The Vicomte was familiar. He would tell me stories of my childhood and tell me that we were friends in our early youth. He would comfort me and take care of me. I have completely lost sight of who I am, Erik... You must understand that. Once I realized that what I did with The Vicomte was wrong, I decided to run away to you. I have gone to Persia to look for you. I need you to tell me who I am. I fear for your safety in Persia, therefore I have booked a passage to Italy. From there I will take a ship to Persia. I hope that you can forgive me once I get there. I know that your forgiveness probably will not come, you probably will not want to marry me, but I hope that you can truly see why I gave into my demons. I am so sorry. I am coming for you, Erik. I will find you and I will rescue you, just as you have rescued you me. I love you. I truly do. What happened with The Vicomte was of little importance, I know where my heart belongs and once I arrive in Persia with you, I will show you. I will prove it to you. _

_With The Deepest Regrets, _

_Christine Daaé. _

_PS. Our days together will never end... We will start just where we left off, Erik. Together forever._

My blood was boiling, my skin was writhing in pain. PERSIA! Was she insane? I copiously read over the letter, trying to get every last detail; the ink, the paper, the sealant, the handwriting. It was mostly scribbled, probably written before she fled. The ink was smudged whenever she wrote The Vicomte's name, probably because was lifting her hand to wipe away unimportant tears. As I read on, I noticed that the paper was slightly yellowed, meaning the letter had been hidden in a draw somewhere for a long time. She wanted someone to find the letter. She wanted someone to know about her infidelity. She was smarter than I thought. She was smarter than any of us thought. She was smarter than she thought.

The room was silenced as I handed the letter to Nadir.


End file.
